


Peace of Akatosh

by MartiniSeptimus (theruinedchildhood)



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, F/M, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, Violence, canon violence, main quest novelisation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 50,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theruinedchildhood/pseuds/MartiniSeptimus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If given the choice, Akarim would have avoided getting thrown into that prison cell all those weeks ago. If he had only contacted Armand Chistophe sooner, he wouldn't be stuck being the errand boy for the Emperor, Martin Septim. He could walk away from everything without another thought, leaving someone else the task of being errand boy, as he'd been reminded time and time again. The only problem was that if he did, Nirn would descend into chaos as prophesied by Uriel Septim.<br/>But even through the mess of all this, like a light shining in the darkness, at least Martin had a nice ass.</p><p>A novelisation of the main quest in The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Humble Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Right. First story published on AO3, so just a bit nervous to how things will come out.  
> Okay, so this is in third person limited following the main quest through to the end. Akarim is my character I created. Might link a picture to him later so you have an idea of how he looks.  
> Yes, my character will eventually get with Martin.  
> I'm not sure how his will end, either it be like in the game or a fix-it fic where Martin survives. I just wrote and kept going.
> 
> The first couple of chapters will probably follow the story line very closely with the dialogue and quests. Other than those, I may create more dialogue for certain scenes and add scenes of my own. Especially after chapter 7.
> 
> Anyway, this hasn't been beta'd. I apologise for any inconvenience, Please do notify me of any mistakes,  
> Enjoy.

He gathered himself up from where he had fallen to the floor. He rubbed his elbow as he turned, watching the guards who had tossed him in there moving back up the stairs and disappearing from sight. He sighed to himself, as this time wasn't the first time being thrown into a cell. He just had a habit of saying the wrong things at the wrong time. Oh, wait. There was that one incident where he was escaping from the guards who had caught him stealing and ended up running through the guard barracks instead of avoiding the place entirely. And the time that he was caught smuggling Skooma and decided to 'get rid of the evidence' by consuming all the bottles at once. He didn't remember much about that incident, or the week after. Or when he decided to visit Skyrim... Let's stop here otherwise we would be here for a while. 

His name was Akarim. Bosmer. Thief by trade. Ladies man. Gentlemen's man. Anyone's man... He wasn't picky. He chose not to have a last name, or associate himself with the family he came from. Well, actually, his family didn't want to be associated with him. He had left them in Valenwood (he had been disowned) when he was younger to travel around Cyrodiil. To start fresh in another province. That had been a long, long time ago. Since then he had become accustomed to the land, knowing the ins and outs of all cities across the province, making friends with the right people. Or the wrong, if you looked at it from a different perspective. All he needed was at least somewhere to stay hidden if anything was to go wrong, or if he had to disappear.

He wouldn’t call himself a troublemaker. Yes, he did get into trouble very often, but not always on purpose... Most of the time he could escape before charges were pressed against him, or he could sweet talk his way out of predicaments, but not this time.

He took in his surroundings, trying to ignore the taunts from the prisoner across from his cell.

“…To go from Valenwood to this rat-infested hole like this… It must be very sad.”

He rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to retort. Instead, he attempted to fashion a pick out of some bone he found on the floor. He needed something to break it. The glanced over at the cell door. The bars were placed too far apart to attempt to snap the bone. There was a table and chair chains hanging from the roof. There was nothing he could work with. Escaping the cell wasn't going to happen any time soon.

“…Pretty soon you'll go mad, and the guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting.”

Akarim huffed. What in Oblivion was the prisoner going on about? He glanced over at the other, peering through the dimly lit cell. Dunmer. Male. Looked like he had been locked in the cell for a while. At least a couple of years, judging by the dark pallor of his skin, darker than usual for a Dark Elf. Maybe it was because of the poor lighting. He went back to the bone, cursing at himself for not smuggling a lockpick for use.

“…You're going to die in here, Wood Elf! Die!”

He threw the bone down in frustration, moving towards the bed in the corner of the room. He plopped down on top of it, regretting it instantly. It was literally just a mat on top of bricks. He chuckled softly to himself. _Welcome to the Imperial Prison. Quality five-star establishment. Every cell guaranteed at least two mice to keep you company._

Even through the humour of the situation, he could feel the rising panic in his chest. It was beginning to get harder to breathe. His mouth was dry. The other prisoner’s taunts were getting to him slowly. Usually he had a plan for this sort of thing (as getting thrown in prison happened often). He also usually had the option of contacting Armand Christophe, who had an arrangement with the guards to cut the price of the bounty on his head. This being said, he wasn’t even given a chance. He wasn’t even sure what exactly the charges pressed against him were.

He shifted onto his back, getting his thoughts under control. It wasn’t the first time he had panicked in these situations, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He knew how to calm himself down. Deep breath in, one, two, three. Hold, one, two, three. Release, one, two, three. He yawned, pausing his breaths for a moment, realising just how tired he was. 

It was late. Well, early morning, judging by the colour of the sky visible through the small window in the cell, and the fact that he had been out since the late evening. It was quiet, apart form the scratching of a mouse, or the crackle of the flame lit torches along the corridor. It also meant that the Dunmer had finally shut up. He was finally left to his own thoughts.

He assumed he must have dozed off because he was startled awake by the other prisoner’s taunts once again.

“You hear that? The guards are coming, for you!”

He groaned, sitting up.

“For the love of Mara! Can’t you just be quiet?”

“Baurus! Lock that door behind us.”

“Yessir.”

His head jerked up at the voice. Guards?

“My sons… they’re dead, aren’t they?”

He stood, frowning as he listened to the voices, trying to make sense of their conversation.

“We don’t know that, Sire. The messenger said that they were only attacked.”

… Sire?

“No. They’re dead. I know it.”

He had moved closer to the gate, trying to glimpse the newcomers.

“My job right now is to get you to safety.”

There were four of them, all heading towards his cell. Three looked like guards, but their armour was not what he had seen before.

He couldn’t glimpse much of the last person, but he swore he had heard the voice before somewhere before. He moved closer, hoping they would help him out of this mess.

“Please, Help." He made his voice higher than usual, giving him an air of innocence. Hoping to the Gods that would get him out of the cell. "This is a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t be here-“

“What’s this prisoner doing here?” She ignored his attempt at speaking, “This cell is supposed to be off limits!”

He was taken back by the interruption, her words silencing him quickly.

“A usual mix up with the watch I-“

“Never mind. Get that gate open.”

He stepped forward. They were giving him a chance to explain.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“Stand back prisoner. We won’t hesitate to kill you if you get in our way.”

His mouth ran dry.

“What?”

“You! Prisoner! Stand Aside. Over by the window. Stay out of the way, and you won’t get hurt.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He moved to the far corner of the room, putting as much distance between himself and the others as possible. He watched silently as they moved into the cell once by one. One spoke to him.

“Stay put prisoner.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah right. Like he had an intention of moving.

“No sign of pursuit, Sir.”

“Good. We’re not out of this yet.”

They moved around his cell, over to the bed roll in the opposite corner to where he was. The one that told him to stay put was the only one that payed attention to him of the three guards, but he could feel someone else’s eyes on him. The final person into his cell. He was old. Older than anyone he had seen before. He had an air of superiority about him.

“You… I’ve seen you.”

His mind flew into a panic. Oh no. Did he do something to anger him before? Was he caught in the act of stealing something from him? Was it because of that incident with the woman-

“Let me see your face.”

He hesitated, glancing at the guards before stepping into the light.

“You are the one from my dreams. Then the stars were right. This is the day. Gods give me strength.”

Akarim frowned.

“I don't understand?” He glanced between the guards, hoping no one would silence him. No one did.

“Assassins attacked my sons, and I’m next." That... didn't explain very much, at all. " My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell.”

“I... still don't understand? Who are you?”

“I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim." _Right. Good one, Akarim. Insulting the Emperor in front of heavily armed Blades._ "By the grace of the Gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you, too, shall serve her in your own way.”

“Uh, right. So, there was a reason to why I was thrown into this cell? Was this your doing?"

A twitch of a smile was brought upon the Emperor’s face as he replied. “Perhaps the Gods have placed you here so that we may meet. As for what you have done…it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for.”

Akarim shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he asked his final question.

“What happens now?”

“You will find your own path. Take care…there will be blood and death before the end.”

That was... morbid. He swallowed thickly. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Thankfully, one of the guards stepped forward before the silence could linger any longer.

“Please, Sire, we must keep moving.”

Akarim watched as she moved to the side, pressing one of the bricks in the wall, revealing an entrance to a cavern.

“Better not close this one. There’s no way to open it from the other side.”

Akarim waited, watching them pass. What did they expect him to do? Was he to stand here? He couldn’t leave the way they had come in. Was he to follow…?

“Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way.”

That answered his question. He trailed behind the last one into the cavern.

Some part of him knew that this was just the beginning of worse things yet to come.


	2. An Alternate Route

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. So, I had written a later chapter before anything else, so I am relying heavily on dialogue from the game for these chapters. Once we get introduced to Martin, then I will be adding dialogue of my own between Akarim and Martin.  
> Anyway, this chapter is a shorter one. The next is slightly longer. Depends if I finish it tonight or not. Might link a photo to what Akarim looks like in the next chapter too.

“Don’t try anything. I’m watching you.”

He side eyed Akarim as he walked passed. That Blade was starting to get on Akarim’s nerves. What had the others called him? Glenroy?

It wasn’t like he had anything to arm himself with, other than his fists. And legs. And he had teeth. Okay, so he wasn't entirely defenseless, but he couldn't really kick and punch his way through armour. Maybe if he could find a bow, then maybe he could show Glenroy just what he was made of-

“For the Emperor!”

He was startled by the sudden cry, jumping back towards the Emperor. The three blades raced ahead, their weapons drawn and ready to attack.

Figures had emerged from the shadows, jumping down from above. Their armour was of Daedric origin, the twisted metal seemed to breathe with their wearers, glowing almost like embers between the carvings over the metal. The twisted metal ended in points all over the attackers bodies.

“Protect yourself.”

He raised his fists. Not that he could do much with his fists, but he readied himself if anything was to come in his and the Emperor’s direction. He went to move forward when a hand rested on his shoulder.

"This is only the beginning. Worse is yet to come."

He glanced over his shoulder at the Emperor, who was wielding a short sword. Why was he the one behind Akarim? Obviously, the Emperor could take care of himself, if the need arose. He watched the fight from the Emperor’s side, the sounds of metal upon metal growing louder as more join into the battle.

The Blades fought with ferocity, their weapons slicing through the assassins with ease.

That was until the Captain fell.

"The Captain's down!" Glenroy had yelled in panic in the midst of the battle, faltering for a moment before swinging his blade in a wide arc, slicing through yet another assassin.

Akarim felt the Emperor’s hand twitch on his shoulder. He must have witnessed her fall too.

But there was a chance she could still be alive, wasn’t there?

They had finished in only a matter of minutes. Bodies littered the floor, all clad in the same red robes.

Except for one.

Baurus moved back towards the Emperor and Akarim, sheathing his blade.

“Are you alright, Sire?” Baurus spoke up, “We’re clear, for now.”

“Captain Renault?”

“She’s dead." Baurus shook his head. "I’m sorry, Sire, but we have to keep moving.”

“There’s trouble ahead.”

Baurus had given the Emperor a curt nod, glancing briefly at Akarim before escorting the both of them back over to Glenroy.

"How could they be waiting for us here?" Glenroy spat as he rubbed blood off the hilt of his blade.

Baurus shook his head.

“Don't know. But it's too late to go back now."

He turned back to speak to the Emperor.

“Don’t worry, Sire, we will get you out of here.”

Glenroy had moved to stand next to Baurus.

“They won’t be the first to underestimate the Blades.”

Akarim had put distance between the Blades, choosing to stand behind the Emperor. He was glad that he hadn’t provoked either one of them to attack him. He knew that he would have been finished off quickly.

“I’ll take point.” Glenroy had moved towards the iron gate, “Let’s move.”

Akarim had glanced briefly at the fallen body of the late Captain Renault amidst the sea of red, before looking away just as quickly. He felt it ill to look upon the faces of the deceased.

He was stopped by Baurus as he tried to make his way through the gate.

“You stay here, prisoner. Don’t try to follow us.”

Akarim frowned.

“Hey… What?”

The gate had slammed shut. There was no way he could open it from this side.

“Are you serious?!” He yelled, trying to force the gate open.

It wouldn’t budge.

He huffed in frustration. Of course. This was just a whole set up, wasn’t it? All this talk about the ‘Gods’ and ‘fate’. This was just for their sick pleasure, wasn’t it? To get his hopes up of being a part of this 'Divine plan' before discarding him like the assassins around him?

He sighed, moving over to one of the corpses closest to him. The robes seemed to have better protection than his threadbare clothing. He should at least have something decent to wear if he was going to try and find another way out of these caverns. The robes, Akarim noted, were quite stylish, even if they were worn by assassins.

He had just finished adjusting the robe, making sure he would not trip from the length of it, before the wall behind him had given way. He started, moving away as two rats made their way through the crumbled wall.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He moved quickly, diving for a blade he had spotted on the floor earlier before arming himself with it. It felt wrong in his hands. He wasn’t used to using a blade as a weapon, but it was better than nothing.

It hadn’t taken long for him to dispose of the creatures, knowing that they were an easy to kill. Rats, he could deal with.

He had found potions of healing and sorcery among the bodies, collecting them for later use. The Emperor’s words repeated over and over in his head;

'This is only the beginning. Worse is yet to come.'

Was this what he meant by worse? Being attacked by rats? Because there was definitely worse things than getting attacked by rats. Like breaking a bone, or calling someone the wrong name when bedding them.

Definitely not a good idea to call out the wrong name. Especially when said person is a 6 foot 5 Orc who smashes heads in for a living.

Even so, she was still a good lay.

He looked over to the wall that the rats had entered. Behind the wall was what looked like some sort of cave system, which meant another way out.

Well, the Emperor was right. Things could definitely be worse…

* * *

 

He took a break, slumping against the wall. His auburn hair falling into his eyes, having come out of the hair tie that would usually keep it up and away. He brushed it behind his ears as he shifted into a more comfortable position, wincing slightly as the iron greaves he had accumulated earlier dug painfully into his hips. He hated iron greaves, but at least they protected him more than the stylish robes.

He placed his iron bow beside him. He had kept it drawn throughout the majority of the caverns, being unused to what hostile creatures lurked in the area. He learnt quickly that goblins were the most common, especially through the natural caverns. He suppressed a shudder.

He hated goblins with a passion.

He trailed his fingers over the bow. Other than meeting the Emperor, it was the next best thing that had happened to him in the last couple of hours. Wielding a bow was like second nature to him. It wasn’t as good as his original, but that was back at the prison, with the rest of his possessions that were confiscated at his arrest.

He had replenished his energy with a healing potion when he heard voices from the opposite side of the wall.

“We should find a defensible spot and protect the Emperor until help arrives.”

“Help? What makes you think help will get here before more of those bastards? We need to get the Emperor out of here.”

He scrambled up from the floor, moving further down the tunnel. Maybe there was another way out…

There was a break in the wall, leading to the previous tunnel system he had started at. Where the other’s had left him. Or it was the next room…

He jumped down onto a platform, moving over to greet them when there was a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He drew his bow, sending an arrow through an assassin’s head. He dropped like a log, warning the Emperor and the other two of their arrival.

“Watch your back, Baurus!”

Akarim stopped shooting, realising he had only a dozen of arrows left. He had taken down at least three assassins, but if other’s were aware of his presence, they did not acknowledge it. He chose to stay quiet, sticking to the shadows as he watched the battle from afar.

Maybe he should stay hidden. Did they even want to see him? They did leave him alone and locked the gate behind so he could not follow.

It was quicker than when they had first attacked. It seemed that Captain Renault’s death had boosted their performance in battle.

“I think that was all of them. Let me take a look around.”

He watched as Baurus moved with his weapon drawn. Akarim was sure that if he made a sudden appearance, it would end with his death.

“Have you seen the prisoner?” Uriel had spoken up after they had moved onto the next section of the cavern.

He frowned. The Emperor wanted to see him? Had the Emperor seen him? Had he seen him attacking earlier?

“Do you think he followed us? How could he?”

“I know he did.”

Akarim frowned. Weren’t they the one’s who stopped him coming through? How did they expect him to-

The Emperor’s dreams. Right.

“Sire, we have to go now.”

“Not yet. Let me rest a moment longer.”

Akarim took a breath, working up the courage to reveal himself. He stood from his crouch, dropping to the level of the Emperor and the Blades, anticipating any attacks. If there were any.

“Dammit! It’s that prisoner again!” Glenroy unsheathed his blade as he approached Akarim. “Kill him! He might be working with the assassins!”

He held his hands up in a gesture to show he meant no harm.

“Look, I-“

“No, he is not one of them!” The Emperor moved to put himself between Akarim and Glenroy. “He can help us. He must help us.”

Glenroy glanced over at Baurus, their eyes meeting for a moment before he sheathed his blade.

“As you wish, Sire.” He turned back towards Baurus, putting space between himself and the Emperor.

The Emperor stepped closer to Akarim, speaking quieter, as if he wanted just the both of them to hear.

“They cannot understand why I trust you. They’ve not seen what I’ve seen.” He frowned to himself as he thought. “How can I explain?” He looked back up at Akarim. “Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?”

Akarim nodded.

“The Nine guide and protect us.”

“I’ve served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well, and I wonder… Which sign marked your birth?”

It took a moment for Akarim to reply. He wasn’t overly content with his birth sign.

“The Thief.”

Akarim heard Glenroy stifle a cough to Baurus. He clenched his fist as he returned his attention to the Emperor, who did not seem fazed by what was his birth sign.

“The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.”

“What about me?”

“Your stars are not mine. Today the Thief shall guide your steps on the road to destiny.”

“Can you see my fate?” Akarim asked suddenly. If this was just the beginning, he wanted to know just how long he had left.

“My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your face, I behold the sun’s companion. The dawn of Akatosh’s bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied.”

He had no idea of what the Emperor’s words meant, but they sounded important. He frowned, realising that the Emperor knew his death. His exact death.

“Aren’t you afraid to die?”

He was in awe of the Emperor’s courage towards his approaching death.

“No trophies of my triumphs precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death… To face my apportioned fate, then fall.”

Akarim couldn’t understand how the Emperor could be so… Accepting, of his fate. Of where they were heading. Of the end.

“Where are we going?”

“I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part.”

Great. He was going to witness the Emperor’s death. Just wonderful.


	3. The Circle Opens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right. Finally done. Took for ages to write this. Just glad it's over. It was difficult, but I got it out of the way. YAY!  
> Anyway, I'm not sure how long I will go in between posting chapters. Really depends on how long I have and if I can be bothered.  
> Alright then. Here you go.

He couldn’t see why he didn’t just leave the party and go off on his own. He really didn't want to witness the death of the Emperor. He had a bow and still a handful of arrows left. He could survive… But maybe it was the work of the God’s. Maybe he was needed.

There was a first.

“You may as well make yourself useful. Here, carry this torch and stick close.”

… Maybe it was better not to be needed.

He took the torch from Baurus and looked over at the Emperor. He still looked like he needed rest for at least another couple of minutes or so. He had time to try to make conversation with the Blades.

“So, who are the Blades?” It was something that he’d wanted to ask for a while. He had an idea of what the Blades where, but curiosity got to the better of him.

“We’re the Emperor’s bodyguards. Our job is to get him out of situations like this." Baurus glanced ahead to the Emperor, "Although I admit, things are not going according to plan.”

“Do you believe that what he's saying is true?" Akarim followed his gaze. "That this is the end for him?”

Baurus frowned.

“My job is to make sure the Emperor gets out of here alive, and I intend to do it. Stick close and let us do our job and you’ll be alright.”

Glenroy had moved towards the door, glancing back at Baurus as he waited for the Emperor to follow. They made eye contact for a moment as Baurus stood to the side to allow the Emperor to pass. He glanced back over at Akarim as Glenroy moved through the door. Akarim had pulled out the torch, frowning as he turned back to Baurus.

"I... need something to light this."

"Here."

Baurus created a flame in his palm, igniting the end of the torch. Akarim had leant away as he did so, keeping out of the way.

"Thanks."

"You don't know magic?

"I... prefer not to. I find it difficult to wrap my head around it. I feel more confident using a bow."

Baurus shrugged.

"I suppose that's fair."

He moved to the side to allow Akarim to pass before him. Akarim nodded in acknowledgement as he followed the Emperor through the door.

“Hold up. I don’t like this. Let me take a look.”

Baurus had lagged behind, healing himself with a restoration spell. The attacks had just kept coming in waves every so often as they had made their way along the route. It was taking its toll on both of the Blade’s, weakening them further with every swing of their blade.

Glenroy had moved ahead, making himself aware of his surroundings, preparing himself for any attacks. He attempted to open the gate before jumping back, drawing his sword quickly.

“Dammit! The gate is barred from the other side! A trap!”

“What about that side passage back there?”

Baurus gestured towards another passage on the opposite side of the cavern.

“Worth a try! Let’s go!”

The Emperor’s face had paled. It felt like there was a knot in Akarim's stomach as looked over the Emperor's form. It was clear that his time was going to end soon. He had chosen to stick close to Akarim during the time the Bosmer had spent with the group of them. They moved along the passage in silence, listening out for enemies who may attack. Glenroy lead them around a corner. He paused, before sighing. It was one of defeat.

“It’s a dead end. What is your call, sir?”

There was the unmistakable sound of armour being conjured from behind them. Both of the Blades jumped to life, blades raised as they doubled back towards the sound

“They’re behind us!" Glenroy shouted, as he ran. "Wait here, sire.”

Baurus followed suit, drawing his sword before pausing for a moment to look back at Akarim,

“Wait here with the Emperor.” His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the area around them. “Guard him with your life.”

Akarim had his bow ready; arm already raised to grab an arrow when the Emperor grabbed his shoulder, pulling Akarim towards him.

“I can go no further.” There was urgency with what he was saying. “You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!” He had shoved the Amulet into Akarim’s hands, covering it with his own as he continued speaking. “Take the Amulet. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son. Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion.”

He looked down at the Amulet as the Emperor moved his hands away. It glowed gold for a moment before returning to red. He ran a thumb over the large jewel before clutching it in his fist.

“Oblivion-?”

It all happened too fast. Akarim only had time to stuff the Amulet into his pocket before the assassin struck the Emperor. He wasted no time, sending an arrow through the assassin’s neck, watching him drop to the floor. It took a moment for Akarim to react, moving to the Emperor’s side, rolling him onto his back.

“Sire!?” He shook him to get a reaction; to see if he had any signs of being alive.

There was nothing.

He looked up as Baurus ran to the Emperor’s side.

“No…Talos save us…”

He had knelt down next to the Emperor’s body, closing his eyes.

“We’ve failed.” He looked over, as if to speak to someone. Face dropping when they weren’t there. Akarim knew Glenroy hadn’t made it either.“I’ve failed…The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead.” He looked over the Emperor’s fallen body, frowning. “The Amulet, where’s the Amulet of Kings?” He stood up, eyes searching. “It’s not on the Emperor’s body.”

“The Emperor gave it to me.”

Akarim patted his pocket as he spoke, feeling the outline of the large gem through the leather cuirass, before pulling it out to show Baurus.

“Strange… He saw something in you.” He frowned. “Trusted you. They say it’s the Dragon Blood that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men. The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that’s just jewellery. The Amulet has power. Only a true heir of the Blood can wear it, they say. He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?”

“I must take it to Jauffre.”

“Jauffre? He said that? Why?”

Akarim gripped the Amulet tightly.

“Apparently, there is another heir.”

“Nothing I ever heard about. But Jauffre would be the one to know. He’s the Grandmaster of my Order. Although you may not think so to meet him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol.”

Akarim nodded in understanding.

“Okay. How do I get there?”

“First you need to get out of here. Through that door must be the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. That’s where we were heading. It’s a secret way out of the Imperial City. Or it was supposed to be secret. Here. You’ll need this key for the last door into the sewers.”

Akarim scrunched up his nose in distaste.

“The sewers?”

“There are rats and goblins down there…but from what I’ve seen of you, I’m guessing you are an experienced Thief. Am I right?”

Akarim sighed. He knew Baurus could see right through him. There was no use lying. “Good guess.”

“A few rats and goblins won’t give you any trouble. You can handle yourself.”

"So... You're not afraid that I'm going to try to sell this?" He held up the Amulet of Kings. "Y'know, being a thief and all? Would sell for a pretty Septim."

Baurus raised an eyebrow. He looked just slightly pissed off.

"I'm just going to say, if that amulet is lost, we have no way of relighting the Dragonfires. The world will descend into chaos, and it would be your fault."

"That's, uh, something to think about. Right. So, after the sewers, then what?”

“You must get the Amulet to Jauffre. Take no chances, but proceed to Weynon Priory immediately. Got it?”

“Uh… Yes. Sewers. Weynon Priory. Jauffre.”

“Take it easy. You’ll be fine. I know this is a lot to take in all at once. No one’s more surprised than me that I’m sending an escaped prisoner off with the Amulet of Kings! But the Emperor trusted you for a reason, and I trust the Emperor. The Amulet of Kings must get to Jauffre at Weynon Priory. He’ll know what to do with it. Jauffre should know how to find the heir that the Emperor spoke of. The Amulet must reach Emperor Uriel’s heir so a new emperor can be crowned.”

Akarim had placed the Amulet safely in his pocket while Baurus had spoken.

“What about you? What will you do?”

Baurus looked over at the fallen body of the late Emperor.

“I’ll stay here to guard the Emperor’s body, and make sure no one follows you. You’d better get moving. May Talos guide you.”

Akarim stood, giving the Emperor one last look before nodding and turning away.

“Sure. Thanks. Same to you."


	4. Deliver the Amulet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. Got this done eventually. But Martin comes in next chapter. I'm looking forward to writing that. Anyway... Enjoy.

He needed to sleep. He needed to bathe. He needed food. He managed to sneak past almost all of the creatures he encountered, only having to kill a couple of goblins towards the end of the route.

He still hated goblins with a passion.

He passed through the gate to the outside world, taking his first breath of fresh air in 32 hours. It was late afternoon judging by the position of the sun behind the Imperial City.

He moved towards the water surrounding the Imperial City, placing his bow and sheath of arrows on a nearby rock before stripping down to his undergarments. He may as well bathe before he set off to Weynon Priory.

He scrubbed his armour down as best as he could. It was harder getting blood out of leather with just water, but it was better than nothing.

For a moment he just stood facing towards the Imperial City. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Before this had happened, he was fine being a petty thief. A nobody jumping from city to city. Not someone to be involved in a Divine plan.

He took this moment to collect his thoughts, parting and re braiding his hair on each side of his face before tying the rest of it back out of his face. It was getting late, but he knew if he followed the road across the lake from him, he would eventually come across an inn. He had collected enough Septims to be able to afford a bed for a night.

He had moved his items to the other side of the lake, placing the Amulet in a safer pocket inside his cuirass before collecting his items and moving on.

* * *

 

He set off first thing in the morning, sticking to the main road. He knew it was the quickest way to Chorrol.

He arrived by midday, only encountering a couple of wolves that he easily disposed of. He was familiar with the path through Weynon Priory, having been there a couple of times, but it was the first time he had taken in the buildings around him. He was approached by, who he assumed, a resident of the Priory.

“Welcome, good citizen. I’m brother Piner, and this is Weynon Priory. A monastery. Can I help you?”

“Hello. I've come to see Jauffre?”

“Oh. Yes. He’ll be in the Priory House. My best guess is that he is in his study on the second floor.”

Akarim smiled.

“Thank you.”

He moved over to the building that he pointed to, letting himself inside. He moved quietly, closing the door behind him. He heard a cough from upstairs, assuming that that was the direction to take. He moved to the right, following the stairs around into a study. There was a Breton seated behind a desk, occupied with a book. He approached him quietly, clearing his throat to get his attention.

“Excuse me-“

“I’m Brother Jauffre. What do you want?”

He was taken back by the interruption.

“I-I-the Emperor sent me to find you.” He fumbled with his pocket, “I brought you the Amulet of Kings.”

“This cannot be. No one but the Emperor is permitted to handle the Amulet. Let me see it.”

He pulled it out, passing it over to Jauffre.

“I was there when he died. He gave me the Amulet of Kings.”

“You brought me the Amulet of Kings?” He passed his fingers over the large gem, his eyes widening, “By the Nine! This IS the Amulet of Kings! Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor’s death?”

Akarim explained his journey, hoping it would be enough for Jauffre to come to trust him.

“As unlikely as your story seems, I believe you. Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings.”

Akarim frowned, recalling what the Emperor had said.

“Who is the Prince of Destruction?”

“The Prince of Destruction he referred to is none other than Mehrunes Dagon, one of the lords of the demonic world of Oblivion. He was involved with Jagar Tharn’s plot against the empire years ago. It doesn’t surprise me to find his hand in the current calamity. The Emperor’s words-- “Close shut the jaws of Oblivion” – certainly suggest that he perceived some threat from Oblivion. But all the scholars agree that the mortal world is protected from the daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers.”

“’Close shut the jaws of Oblivion’…?”

Jauffre sighed.

“His meaning is unclear to me as well. The Emperor seemed to perceive some threat from the demonic world of Oblivion. The Prince of Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon, is one of the lords of Oblivion. But the mortal world is protected from the daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers.”

“But… how can Oblivion threaten us, then?”

Jauffre shrugged.

“I’m not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind the rituals of coronation. The Amulet of Kings is ancient. Saint Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power. When an Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires in the Temple will be dark, for the first time in centuries. It may be that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of.”

Akarim nodded, understanding the severity of the issue at present.

“The Emperor asked me to find his son.”

“I am one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago, I served as captain of Uriel’s bodyguards, the Blades. One night Uriel called me in his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. From time to time he would ask about the child’s progress. Now, it seems that this illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim Throne. If he yet lives.”

“Where can I find Uriel’s son?”

“His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh in the Chapel in the city of Kvatch, south of here, never knew that he was Uriel Septim’s son. You need to find him at once and bring him safely back here. You must go to Kvatch and find him at once. If the enemy is aware of his existence, as seems likely, he is in terrible danger. And please, let me know if there’s anything you need. My resources here are limited, but I will help in any way I can.”

“...and the Amulet of Kings?

Jauffre held it tighter.

“It will be safest here with me. When you return with Martin, we will figure out our next move.”

Akarim stood quietly for a moment, running his fingers over the leather of his curiass before speaking quietly.

“So… you actually are the Grandmaster of the Blades?”

“Yes, Baurus told you right. I am the Grandmaster of the Blades. We serve the Emperor and the Septim bloodline. Talos is our patron. You wonder to find me here? Discretion is our watchword. Only a few of us have the honour to serve publicly in the Imperial Guard.”

“Baurus is a good body guard.”

“And one of the youngest Blades ever to serve in the Emperor’s personal guard. I am glad to hear that he survived, but I fear he will take the Emperor’s death particularly hard.”

He nodded, turning to leave when he paused.

“…What kind of assistance can you give me?”

Jauffre stood, moving towards Akarim.

“I keep a few things here in my chest to resupply traveling Blades. Help yourself to whatever you need.”

Akarim nodded, exchanging his leather armour for the set in the chest. He took all the arrows, knowing that they would be his weapon of choice if anything was to arise on his journey. He gripped the bow he had equipped and the new one in the chest, contemplating whether to get a new one or stick with the one he had. He kept the original, suiting up before turning back to Jauffre, giving him a nod.

“Thank you. I’ll return soon.”

He clutched his bow tighter as he left Weynon Priory. He had a feeling that getting Martin to safety would be more difficult than he planned.


	5. Kvatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update. I've been busy this last month, and bits and pieces have been coming up but finally got it done.  
> So, here you go.

It was eerily quiet for most of his travel to Kvatch. The weather seemed to be on hold, the overcast sky making everything seem dulled. No trees rustled. No birds sang. He didn’t pass anyone along the way, or run into any hostile creatures. He wanted to believe it was just luck, but he was smarter than that. He knew something was wrong.

He spotted the city from a distance, deciding to cut across the wilderness instead of sticking to the road. It would save him more time anyway, and with the threat of hostile creatures gone, it seemed like a better option.

He reached Kvatch just as the sun was setting. He eventually crossed the road leading up to the city, following it up the hill. He frowned as he saw columns of smoke curling towards the sky where the city should have been, quickening his pace.

The clouds darkened even more as it started raining. He travelled further along the path before a stranger approached him suddenly, stopping Akarim in his tracks.

“Come on!” Akarim was taken back of the hysteria in the stranger’s voice. “Run while there’s still time! The Guard still holds the road, but it’s only a matter of time before they’re overwhelmed!”

Akarim frowned, not understanding the situation.

“Run? From what?”

The other’s voice had lowered as he spoke, as if he couldn’t believe what Akarim had just said.

“Gods’ blood, you don’t know, do you? Daedra overran Kvatch last night… There were glowing portals outside the walls, gates to Oblivion itself! There was a huge creature… something out of a nightmare… came right over the walls…blasting fire. They swarmed around it…killing…”

Akarim shook his head in disbelief.

“The whole city can’t be destroyed…”

The stranger pointed towards the city.

“Go and see for yourself! Kvatch is a smoking ruin! We’re all that’s left. Do you understand me?” He had gripped Akarim by the shoulders. “Everyone else is dead!”

Akarim gripped the other’s arms, pulling himself away.

“But… how did you escape?”

“It was Savlian Matius…some of the other guards…helped some of us escape…they cut their way out, right through the city gates. Savlian says they can hold the road. No…no, I don’t believe him. Nothing can stop them. If you’d seen it, you’d know…I’m getting out of here before it’s too late! They’ll be here any minute, I’m telling you. Run while you can!”

Akarim didn’t even have a chance to reply before the other ran in the opposite direction. He stood for a moment longer, taking a deep breath in before continuing further along the path, through a small settlement of tents. He gathered that the people here were the survivors.

He hoped that Martin was among them.

He moved towards a lone Khajiit, kneeling down as he spoke.

“Excuse me, would you know Brother Martin by any chance? Is he at this camp?”

The Khajiit glanced up at Akarim before shaking their head.

“The last I heard of him, he was directing people inside the Chapel. I don’t know if he’s still alive or not.”

Akarim stood, nodding.

“Thank you.”

He looked up towards the city once more, before running up the hill. He just hoped that Martin was still alive.

Stakes had been erected around the city, stopping anyone, or anything, from escaping down the hill. A handful of Guards were stationed along the path, waiting for orders from their Captain.

The sky had changed suddenly, as did the temperature. It seemed like embers from a fire had replaced the grey of the sky, washing the world in red.

It was just as if Akarim had walked into hell.

Akarim approached the guards quickly, startled by the sudden rumbles of thunder that shook the ground. One of them stopped him in his tracks.

“Stand back, civilian!” The speaker's sword was drawn and was pointed towards the city, or what lay in front of it.

It was at least 10 metres high. Created out of black rock that seemed to have formed up through the ground. It was shaped like an arch, surrounded by a ring of fire, and currently allowing many forms of Daedra to walk upon the land.

“This is no place for you. Get back to the encampment at once!”

Akarim watched as the Guards moved towards the creatures, slaughtering them down quickly before returning behind the stakes once more.

“W…what happened here?”

“We lost the damned city, that’s what happened!” He spat. “It was too much, too fast. We were overwhelmed. Couldn’t even get everyone out. There are still people trapped in there. Some made it into the Chapel, but others were just run down in the streets. The Count and his men are still holed up in the castle. And now we can’t even get back into the city to help them, with that damned Oblivion Gate blocking the way.”

Akarim looked over at the Oblivion Gate. The only way to access the city was from the gate behind it.

“What will you do now?”

“The only thing we can do. We’ll try to hold our ground, that’s what. If we can’t hold his barricade, those beasts could march right down and overrun the encampment. I have to try and protect the few civilians that are left. It’s all I can do now.”

Akarim swallowed, steadying his breath.

“Can I help?”

“You want to help?" He raised an eyebrow. "You’re kidding, right?" He took in Akarim's figure before continuing. "Hmm…if you’re serious, maybe I can put you to use. It’ll likely mean your death, though. Are you sure?”

No. He wasn’t sure.

“I’ll do whatever I can.”

He knew there was no turning back now.

“I don’t know how to close this Gate, but it must be possible, because the enemy closed the ones they opened during the initial attack.” He pointed across the ground. “You can see the marks on the ground where they were, with the Great Gate right in the middle. I sent men into the Gate, to see if they could find a way to shut it... They haven’t come back. If you can get in there, find out what happened to them. If they’re alive, help them finish the job. If not, see what you can do on your own.” He rested a hand on Akarim’s shoulder. “The best I can say is, good luck. If you make it back alive, we’ll be waiting for you.”

Akarim drew his bow, pausing for a moment.

“Is Martin still in Kvatch?”

“You mean the priest? Last I saw him, he was leading a group towards the Chapel of Akatosh. If he’s lucky, he’s trapped in there with the rest of them, at least safe for the moment. If he’s not…”

Akarim gave a curt nod.

“Thank you.”

Savlian nodded in return.

“Good luck. It is a brave thing you’re doing.”


	6. Priest of Akatosh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking the siege of Kvatch, The Battle for Castle Kvatch and Finding the Heir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Got it done!  
> This chapter was pretty easy to get down. Usually I stare at my screen until I get inspiration but, yeah. This was pretty good. Anyway, enjoy.

Oblivion. It was just that. He was wrong. Inside that gate, now that was hell. It was hot. Lava surrounding the island just like an ocean would. There were bodies of daedra and men alike strung across the ground or hanging from pillars of rock, or what Akarim assumed was rock.

The smell was what affected him, making him choke as what ever remained in his stomach threatened to make an appearance.

The fumes from the lava mixed with the burning and decaying of flesh. It was horrid. It was unpleasant.

Most of it was a rush, just trying to figure out how to get himself to the top of the Sigil tower in the middle of the island. It was more instinct than anything, avoiding most of the creatures and only stopping to make his way through the doors to the leading halls, winding up and down towers. By the time he had made it to the top, he was covered in blood, his own and from the Daedra that had come too close to him. He was drenched in sweat, plastering his hair against his face and neck and making his armour stick to his skin.

He heard the cries of the daedra following closely behind him. He pushed forward, climbing up the last part of the tower, towards the Sigil stone keeping the portal open. He threw himself forward without another thought, closing his fingers around the stone and pulling it out of the beam of light it was suspended in. The tower started crumbling around him, throwing him around as the room filled with a blinding light.

The portal spat him out, closing behind him in a flash before the structure crumbled to the floor. He collapsed to his knees, clutching the stone in his hands. It was still warm, giving off a slight hum as it pulsed with light through the cracks crossing the surface. It slipped through his fingers as he keened over, clutching his ribs as he panted. His head pounded against his temples. The contents of his stomach really wanted to make an appearance. He felt like it was the morning of a rough night out. A night where you didn't want to remember.

In that gate was definitely something he wanted to forget. He used his other hand to search for a healing potion. It was the best he could do at this moment. He sculled it in one go, discarding the bottle as he reached towards the stone once again. He rolled it in his hand as he stood, studying it for a moment longer before stuffing it into his bag. He’d deal with it later.

"You closed the Gate? I knew you could do it!” Akarim looked up, seeing Savlian approaching him. “This is our chance to launch a counterattack!” Great. Attacking again. Like Akarim hadn’t done enough already. ”I need you to come with us. You've got far more combat experience than these men. Are you able to join us now? I can wait, but not for long. We've got to move quickly, before they have a chance to barricade the city gate."

He didn’t really have a choice. He needed to get Martin. That was the reason for closing the gate. For all of this.

“Let’s go.”

"For Kvatch!" Savlian cried as he rushed forward through the gate to the city, followed by Akarim and the other guards.

Swords met flesh. Arrows flew. Cries of warriors and daedra alike filled the air. It was not quite as bad as Akarim was expecting, but this time, he had others to back him up.

"Ha ha! We wiped the bastards out!” Savlian cheered as the final creature was slain. “It's safe to pull those people out of the chapel. Let's get in there and make sure they're all right. Come on.” He waved them on, moving towards the Chapel. 

He kept a look out for Martin as soon as he stepped inside, eyes sweeping through the area, hoping that he could recognise the priest. He hoped he looked like his father.

“Report, soldier.”

His eyes were drawn back to Savlian as he spoke to a soldier.

“Sir, we’re all that’s left. Berich Inian, myself, and these civilians.”

“That’s it? There’s no one else?”

“There were others, sir. But they refused to stay put. We tried to convince them it was dangerous, but they left anyway. I guess they didn’t make it.”

“Very well. The area outside the Chapel has been cleared, and these people need to be taken to safety. Escort them to the camp south of here at once.”

“But sir! I want to help fight!”

“You will, soldier. Once they’re secure, get back here immediately. We’ll need every available blade, and there’ll be plenty of fighting to go around.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

“Civilians, it’s time to move out! Let’s go!”

She had moved out of the Chapel as Savlian spoke to Akarim.

“We’ve done it! I can’t believe it – I didn’t really think this would work. Maybe we do have a fighting chance. Oh, yes. We’re not done. Not even close. This was only the first step. If this town is to be ours again, we’ll need to get inside the castle. You’ve come this far with us: will you go further? If we’re truly going to succeed, I’ll need much more of your help. I warn you, though, what we’ve seen so far is nothing compared to the battle that likely awaits us. Take a few moments to catch your breath and think it over. When you’re ready, let me know, and we’ll get underway."

Akarim took a moment to look over his injuries. They weren't life threatening. Nothing that another potion wouldn't fix. He looked back towards Savlian, nodding to him.

“Are you ready to go? We need your help getting to the castle, but we need to move soon.”

“Yes, let’s go.”

“Ha ha, I knew you’d be up to it! Our goal is the Castle gate. We should be able to use this door to get out to the plaza in front of the Castle gatehouse. You know the drill. Stick close, and keep your eyes open. Let’s move out!”

They had done it. They had made it to the castle. They had slaughtered every single daedra roaming the city. He had left the castle in high spirits, knowing that the city was no longer threatened. He hoped that the city would be rebuilt. He enjoyed visiting it from time to time.

He made his way back to the camp, hoping that Martin was, in fact, among the refugees. He made his way through the crowd, trying to find him, almost panicking before someone stopped him in his tracks.

Akarim couldn’t help but stare. He looked exactly like his father did. There was no mistake that this man was the Emperor’s son.

But he couldn't help but wonder; had he seen this man before? Something was vaguely familiar about him. He scattered his thoughts. He looked like the Emperor. That was probably it.

Akarim approached the man, wiping more blood off his face, attempting to make himself look somewhat decent. He sighed, giving up as he realised blood covered the majority of his body. The man had turned to face him. It was obvious that he was running on little sleep, judging by the dark bruises under his eyes.

“I heard about how you helped the Guard drive the Daedra back. Well done.”

Though his words mean praise, they sounded hollow. Like he had given up.

“You need to come with me. You’re in danger.”

“Danger, you say?” He frowned. “You came here to tell me this? Explain yourself or leave me alone. There are many others here who actually need your help.”

Akarim swallowed. Maybe he was wrong…

“You’re Martin, right? The priest?”

He didn't mean for it to sound so desperate.

“Yes, I’m a priest. Do you need a priest? I don’t think I’ll be much help to you. I’m having trouble understanding the Gods right now. If all this is part of a divine plan, I’m not sure I want to have anything to do with it.”

“There is a plan. We’re part of it.”

Martin was taken back by Akarim’s words.

“What plan? What are you talking about? I prayed to Akatosh all through that terrible night, but no help came. Only more daedra. What can you possibly know that would help me make sense of this?”

“You are Uriel Septim’s son.”

“Emperor Uriel Septim? You think the emperor is my father?” He almost laughed. “No, you must have the wrong man. I am a priest of Akatosh. My father was a farmer.”

Akarim shook his head.

“The daedra came here for you. The Emperor knew you were in danger.”

“You spoke to the Emperor before he died? And he told you to find me? An entire city destroyed to get at me? Why?” He was speaking more to himself then to Akarim. “Because I’m the Emperor’s son?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

Martin narrowed his eyes, dropping them to the floor as he tried making sense of the situation.

“I don’t know. It’s strange…I think you might actually be telling the truth. What does this mean?” He looked back up at Akarim. “What do you want from me?”

“Come with me to Weynon Priory.”

“You destroyed the Oblivion Gate, they say. You gave them hope. You helped them drive the daedra back.” He nodded. “Yes, I’ll come with you to Weynon Priory. Lead on.”


	7. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akarim escorts Martin to Chorrol, almost. There are stops along the way, and Akarim could talk the ears off of someone if he wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH! Finally got it written. This is probably the longest chapter I've written so far. This one was harder as I had no dialogue to work off of, so... Yeah.  
> I'm not sure when I will next be updating. I just do this when ever I can, but I'm aiming to have it done in at least 3 weeks.  
> Anyway, enjoy.

He escorted Martin out of the encampment, heading west. Akarim chose to stick to the road rather than risk crossing the countryside and endangering Martin.

Not that the roads couldn’t be dangerous too.

It took an encounter with a couple of goblins for Akarim to see that Martin was very capable of taking care of himself, with both wielding an enchanted dagger and casting spells.

He reloaded another arrow, turning to see the final goblin running towards the Priest.

“Martin, duck!”

He did without hesitation. The goblin fell to the ground, arrow protruding from his chest.

“Thanks.”

Akarim nodded.

“No problem.”

“You wield the bow with finesse.”

Akarim looked at his bow, shrugging. “I’ve been using a bow for many years now. It’s just natural… I suppose. Like an extension of myself.” He smiled. “I did have another, before this. One that I got from... Someone dear to me. Glass. Beautiful thing…” He trailed off, looking back up at Martin. “But I kind of left it back in the Imperial City, so, this will have to do for now.” He slung it back over his shoulder. “So, shall we continue?”

“I’m set to go.”

Akarim nodded, moving back along the road.

They continued in silence for a moment, before Akarim spoke up.

“I see you’re quite experienced with magicks.” Akarim started, trying to return the complement. “Did you study?”

“I did.” Came the reply. “Many years ago, before I became a Priest.”

“What made you become a Priest?”

Martin was silent. Akarim decided to start rambling to take their minds off it.

“Well, I never could get my head around magicks. Got to stick to potions. Without them, I would have probably died long ago. They’ve saved me more than once. So have others with magick capabilities. I suppose I’ve never been interested in learning because I’d rather watch others do it. It would be brilliant to learn, but. I don’t know. Hasn’t really grasped my attention, although I don’t think I could handle the destructive side of it. I mean, I could try but…” He rambled on, looking over at Martin every so often to make sure he was listening. He didn’t think he was, but at least he wasn’t telling Akarim to stop, so Akarim took that as a sign to keep talking. “… And that’s why I don’t really trust soul gems anymore.”

Martin was still quiet, for a moment, before he chuckled.

“You can talk for a while, can’t you?”

Akarim smiled.

“It helps pass the time.” _And distracts people._ He wanted to say, but decided against it.

Martin smiled. “Yes it does. We’re almost to Skingrad.” He pointed out.

Akarim looked up, realising how far down they road they had travelled. He hadn’t been to Skingrad in years now. But that was because…

He turned to Martin.

“Do you mind if we make a slight detour? I just need to visit someone.”

Martin nodded.

“By all means, it is alright.”

Akarim smiled, moving along and collecting a variety of wild flowers covering the grass to the sides of the path, sticking with yellows mostly. He would have liked to get the flowers he passed when he was travelling to Kvatch, but these would have to do for the time being.

He led Martin off the main road, to a trail to the Skingrad graveyard. He looked back at Martin for a moment, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ll be just a moment.”

Martin nodded, moving over to a bench near the entrance, giving Akarim the privacy he needed.

He placed the flowers next to one of the headstones, kneeling down next to the grave.

“I apologise for not visiting you in quite some time.” He started. “I’ve been held up a bit these past couple of days.” He glanced over at Martin. “I was thrown into jail and I met the Emperor.” He chuckled. “Long story short, these assassins killed the Emperor, but I found his son. He’s a priest of Akatosh. Didn’t believe me at first, when I told him that he was the Emperor’s son. I still don’t think he believes me, but without him, Nirn would descend into chaos.” He caught Martin’s eye, giving him a smile before he turned back to the grave, placing a hand on the stone. “I miss you.” He whispered. “I'm so sorry. I wish you were here with me, being by my side for this adventure. You would like it. Slaying daedra and stepping into Oblivion itself. It should be you doing this…” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He swallowed back tears. “At least Martin is good looking.” He smiled to himself. “Not that I’m interested or comparing you to him or anything…” He trailed off, leaning forward to press his lips against the stone. “I probably won't come back for a while. I suppose I am trying to avoid you. I'm sorry. It’s time for me to continue on.” He stood up, wiping away a tear that had managed to trail down his cheek.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see that it belonged to Martin.

“Do you mind if I pay my respects?”

Akarim shook his head.

“Not at all.”

He moved to the side, gesturing towards the grave, giving it one last look before moving out of the graveyard.

Martin took only a couple of moments

“If you don’t mind me asking, were they a lover of yours?”

Akarim nodded.

“He was.”

“He was a lucky man.”

He looked over at Martin, a question on his lips before Martin interrupted him.

“Do you need to replenish your supplies? We could go through Skingrad, if you wanted.”

“I… Uh…” Akarim frowned. “No? I think I’m alright…”

“We could make it to the Wawnet Inn at sundown and then continue to Weynon Priory? I can pay for a bed for the both of us?”

He was taken aback by Martin’s plan, not expecting it at all.

“I suppose we can…”

“Good. You look like you need a good nights rest anyway. I doubt you’ve gotten much over these past couple of days.”

“I could only say the same to you.”

A hint of a smile twitched at Martin’s lips.

“To be honest, I don’t really remember the last time I got a rest since...”

He trailed off. Akarim took that as a cue to step in.

“I can pay. I was given some gold from Jauffre before I found you.”

“I did offer beforehand-“

“Martin, if you really want to, you can pay. Or we can pay for ourselves. How does that sound?”

Martin fell quiet for a moment.

“…Alright.”

Akarim smiled, deciding to pass the time with another chat.

“Do you mind if I keep chatting? I mean, once I get started, I sometimes find it hard to stop, and then I won’t until someone tells me to, because then I see it as a sign to keep talking. Speaking of which…”

Martin just smiled, nodding along with what Akarim was saying, even if he didn’t quite understand.

The sun had just disappeared over the horizon as they approached Wawnet Inn, just as Martin had predicted.

“Perfect timing.”

Akarim moved up to the door, opening it to let Martin through.  


“After you.”

Martin gave him a smile as he moved inside, already feeling at ease with his surroundings as the warmth of the Inn relaxed him.

Akarim passed him as he moved to the counter, asking for two beds for the night.

“I’m sorry, but we only have one room for the night.”

The Innkeeper looked between Akarim and Martin as they spoke.

“Will that be a problem?”

Martin hesitated, before shaking his head.

“No. That would be fine.”

The Innkeeper leant down for a moment, picking up a bed roll.

“I do have this, though, if you’d like to use it.”

Akarim smiled.

“Please. That would be much appreciated.”

They followed the Innkeeper up the stairs, moving into the first door on the right.

“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Akarim smiled warmly as he thanked the Innkeeper, watching him move out of the room before closing the door.

“I can take the floor if you want?”

Martin frowned.

“No… You don’t have to do that…”

“Martin, you clearly need the bed more than I do. It’s just one night. You need your rest.” He sighed, placing the bedroll on the floor next to the bed. “Please take the bed.”

Martin stood for a moment longer, before moving over to the bed, almost collapsing onto the mattress. It was then that Akarim realised just how exhausted Martin looked.

“Do you want something to eat? I can go downstairs and get you something, if you’d like?”

Martin shook his head.

“No thank you.”

Akarim took off his bow and arrows, placing them on the table before turning back to Martin.

“Well, I’m going to get myself something. I’ll be about 10 minutes or so, if you wanted to settle down. “

He moved towards the door, looking back at Martin for a moment.

“Hey, Martin?”

He looked up at Akarim.

“Yes?”

“…You don’t snore, do you?”

Martin shook his head, laughing quietly.

“No. I do not.”

“Oh, thank Mara. Sorry. Slept in the same room as a snorer before. Kept me up all night.”

He stopped himself before he started rambling again.

“Anyway, I’ll be back.”

“Oh, Akarim?”

He paused, turning back towards Martin.

“Yes?”

“I… I just wanted to say thank you. For escorting me. For Kvatch. For everything.”

Akarim gave him a small smile.

“You’re welcome.”

He closed the door behind him, heading back downstairs. He moved over to the counter once again, greeting the Innkeeper with a smile.

“Hello again. I was wondering if you had any produce that I am able to buy?”

The Innkeeper moved over to the fire, giving the pot a stir before looking up at Akarim.

“I’ve been making soup, but this is all I have at the moment”

Akarim pulled out a couple of Septims.

“Do you mind if I buy a bowl?”

A bowl was placed in front of him. He handed over the Septims with a smile and dug in with enthusiasm. It had been over a day since he’d had a proper meal.

He moved back upstairs with a no-longer-empty stomach, stifling a yawn. He knocked on the door, and when getting no reply, opened it slowly.

Martin was passed out on the bed, face pressed into the pillow. It looked like he had made an attempt to burrow under the blankets, but had fallen asleep before he could do so.

Akarim closed the door softly behind him, starting to take off his armour and place it in the corner. Once he was down to his underclothes, he moved over to Martin, pulling the blanket up further to cover the rest of his body.

He looked down at the sleeping Priest for a moment longer, taking in his features. He looked so much younger in his sleep. Muscles relaxed, mouth slightly parted as he took breaths in. Akarim smiled softly, before moving to the bed roll.

Although it wasn’t the best of places to sleep, it was better than nothing, and he had slept in worse. Much worse.

He made himself comfortable, evening out his breaths as he closed his eyes, trying not to think of the events of the day, before he drifted off eventually into a slumber.


	8. Weynon Priory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Help! You must help!” Eronor had gripped Akarim’s arm, shaking him as he spoke quickly. “They're killing everyone at Weynon Priory!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right
> 
> Apologies are in order for how long this chapter took  
> I do not know when the next chapter will be posted. I just kinda had inspiration and wrote this.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy :)
> 
> (This has not been beta'd. Would appreciate it if others could notify me of mistakes. Thanks)

He yawned as he rolled over. Nightmares of Oblivion had plagued only a small number of his dreams. Not enough to render him to screaming of night terrors, but enough to make him even more relieved to be out of that place. Though the memories lingered in his subconscious, it had been a while since he had slept that well. Maybe he should stick around here for a while. Maybe catch up on the past seven years of sleep he missed. But why was he here? Where was he again? He blinked away the sleep in his eyes as he sat up. 

“Good morning.”

Akarim started, instinctively reaching for his bow, which was currently placed at the other side of the room.

Right.

Brother Martin.

Martin Septim. The man he was escorting to Weynon Priory. To become Emperor. 

Like he promised his father.

Akarim remained in his stance for a moment longer, relaxing when he knew there was no threat present.

“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”

Martin gave him a soft smile.

“Early riser.”

Akarim gave him a nod as he stood.

“Usually I am too, but with what’s been happening…”

“I understand. Surprised you didn’t sleep for longer. You were clearly exhausted.”

Akarim looked at Martin. Really looked at him. He still had bags under his eyes. His cheeks had more colour in them. Not very much, but at least there was an improvement. He still looked as worn down as he did when he first met him.

“Have you eaten?” He asked suddenly, being reminded of his own meal the night before. Maybe he should have brought some for Martin. Gotten something for him to eat anyway. Did he eat anything while he was in Kvatch? Had he eaten since then? Did he want-

“I did.” Martin cut off Akarim’s thoughts. “The innkeeper was up early as well. She gave me some soup when I went down earlier.”

“Oh. Good. You need something in your stomach for the rest of this journey.”

Akarim stretched his arms over his head, yawning as he moved over to his leather armour.

“How long ago did you wake?” He asked as he slipped on his gear, trying to break the uncomfortable silence as he dressed.

“About an hour.”

Akarim hummed to indicate that he was listening as he tightened his greaves around his waist.

“Are you alright to leave?”

Akarim secured the ties on the sides of his cuirass, glancing over his shoulder at Martin. He caught Martin’s eyes flitting away from him.

How about that?

Martin Septim was checking him out.

Akarim moved to start tying the other side of his cuirass as he smiled to himself.

“I was ready when you woke, so yes.”

He slipped on his boots then grabbed his bow and sheath of arrows. He slipped them over his head before facing Martin and smiling.

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

* * *

 

They followed the Black Road to Weynon Priory. No one crossed their path. It was a peaceful walk. A beautiful day to match. It was nothing like the horrors of Oblivion, or the horrors of Kvatch. Akarim hoped he would never have to face those horrors again.

The chapel of Weynon Priory slowly came into view as they made their way up the hill. Akarim was busy explaining to Martin of the Green Pact; an oath made by the Bosmer to Y'ffre, when a shout beyond them had Akarim drawing an arrow and Martin unsheathing his dagger.

“Help!”

They rushed ahead, towards the cry. Eronor was sprinting towards them, away from his attacker. Akarim sent his arrow through the attacker’s chest, piercing through the summoned armour, killing him quickly.  
The armour disappeared as they fell, revealing a female Dunmer beneath.

“Help! You must help!” Eronor had gripped Akarim, shaking him as he spoke quickly. “They're killing everyone at Weynon Priory!"

“Wai-what happened?” Akarim had stilled Eronor’s shaking as he spoke.

"I don't know! I think they're right behind me! Prior Maborel is dead!"

“Who’s attacking?”

"I-I was in the sheepfold when they attacked. I heard the Prior talking to someone. Looked around the corner to see who it was. They looked like travellers, ordinary. Suddenly weapons appeared in their hands and they cut the Prior down before he could move! They saw me watching and I ran."

Akarim nodded, frowning.

“Where’s Jauffre?”

“I don't know. In the Chapel praying, I think. You must help us!"

Akarim had started moving towards the chapel, readying an arrow as he ran, Martin at his heels. The sound of metal against metal grew louder as they approached the chapel door.

He glanced at Martin.

“Ready?”

Martin gave him a sharp nod.

“3… 2… 1.”

They pushed inside, an arrow flying to one assassin, a frost spell aimed at another. Jauffre was occupied with an assassin of his own, wielding an Akaviri katana and seeming quite skilled with it. Akarim side stepped out of Martin’s way, pressing himself against the wall to avoid a spell cast towards him.

As soon as the last assassin dropped to the ground, Jauffre was moving towards Akarim.

“You’re back. Thank Talos! They attacked without warning. I was praying in the Chapel when I heard Prior Maborel shout. I had just time to arm myself.” He caught sight of Martin, his eyes widening. “The Amulet of Kings! I fear that was the target of this attack. I kept it in a secret room in Weynon House. We need to go see if it safe.”

Akarim followed Jauffre out the door, Martin following closer behind. They passed the late Prior Maborel. His eyes staring blankly at the sky above. Akarim tore his eyes away as they moved into the Weynon House.

Jauffre ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. For an old man, he was surprising limber. He moved towards the door next to the bookcase against the wall on the left, disappearing inside through the remains of the doorframe.

Akarim watched Martin out of the corner of his eye as they moved up the stairs. He had been quiet, apart from fighting the assassins. The both of them seemed to be holding their breath. Hoping to the Divines that the Amulet was safe. For this nightmare to finally be over.

“They’ve taken it! The Amulet of Kings is gone! The enemy has defeated us at every turn!”


	9. Cloud Ruler Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jauffre, Martin and Akarim move from Wrynon Priory to Cloud Ruler Temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And guess who finished this instead of sleeping?  
> This guy, right here.  
> I dunno. I'm sleep deprived. Probs got heaps of mistakes. Kinda rushed towards the end.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

Of course they took it.

Of course it was in the hands of the enemy.

Akarim turned to Martin, both of their faces grim.

Was all hope lost?

“I found Martin. He is safe.”

Jauffre sighed in relief.

“So it has not all gone against us.” He clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Thank Talos for that! We gained Uriel’s heir, and lost the Amulet of Kings. Martin cannot stay here. We have driven them off, but they will be back once they learn of Martin’s survival. Which they will.”

 Akarim frowned as he thought through Jauffre’s words.

“Where will Martin be safe?”

Jauffre frowned, shaking his head.

“Nowhere is truly safe against the power arrayed against us. But we must play for time, at least…” He thought for a moment, “Cloud Ruler Temple, I think. The hidden fortress of the Blades, in the mountains near Bruma. A few men can hold it against an army. We should leave at once.”

Jauffre had moved to the living quarters, sorting through the wreckage of the place, hoping to find something to salvage for the journey. Akarim and Martin had moved out of the way. After seeing how Jauffre had handled himself with his blade, they were both more than wary of getting in his way.

“Is there anything we could do to help?”

“There are horses in the stables. Could you get them set for us? There should be three. Mine is the bay horse. Martin, you can take the grey horse. Akarim, you may as well take Prior Maborel’s painted horse from the stable. He won’t have use for it any longer.”

Akarim started to move out of the room. Glancing at Martin moving down the stairs in front of him. He paused, turning back to Jauffre.

 “Jauffre?”

“Hmm? Yes?”

“What about the Amulet of Kings?”

“With the Amulet taken by the enemy, we must get Martin to safety at Cloud Ruler Temple.”

Akarim stood for a moment longer before making his way back down the stairs to the stables.

He found Martin preparing the horses, giving his designated horse a rub on its shoulder to calm it as he tightened the saddle. He had been oddly quiet since they had first arrived.

“Are you okay?”

Martin looked up at Akarim, shrugging.

“I’m not sure how I should feel.”

“Anxious? Angry?” _Afraid?_ “Feeling like all hope is lost?”

“Not all hope is lost.”

Martin caught Akarim’s small smile.

“I said _feeling_ not what was reality.” He leaned against the stable, folding his arms over his chest, dropping his eyes to the floor. “Because that’s how I feel right now.”

“You don’t look it.”

Akarim shrugged.

“Internally I’m kind of… screaming. I tend to overthink everything. About all possible outcomes of situations. Good and bad. Sometimes I distract myself with something to stop thinking, but sometimes that doesn’t work.”

“What do you do usually to distract yourself?”

“Talk."

“Then tell me something. You managed to talk without a breath on our travel here.”

Akarim rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, I didn’t get to finish telling you about the Green Pact-”

“Thank you for saddling the horses.”

They both jumped at the voice, turning to Jauffre who was carrying three packs to be fitted on each of their saddles.

“Anything to help.”

Akarim sighed. He was probably never going to finish what he was saying. It didn’t really matter though. It wasn’t like he followed the Green Pact anymore.

“You can tell me the rest of it later.”

Martin passed him to move back to his horse, mounting it. Akarim struggled slightly with mounting his own, just managing to swing his leg over to balance himself out. Not everything was easy with being a Bosmer.

Martin had positioned his horse behind Jauffre’s. Jauffre had instructed Akarim to be positioned behind Martin’s. He explained that this was the formation for them to remain in on their way to Cloud Ruler Temple. It was the only way to ensure Martin’s upmost security, according to Jauffre.

They headed off, following the Orange Road up to Bruma. They detoured around the city, hoping that no one would take note of the direction they were heading.

* * *

 

It was dusk by the time they made it to Cloud Ruler Temple. It was silhouetted against the horizon, surrounded by large walls concealing all but the roof, just visible above the wall. Akarim was curious to what else lay behind those walls.

They demounted their horses, keeping them close together as Jauffre strode towards the gate. A Blade slipped through the gate as it opened, greeting Jauffre enthusiastically.

Martin and Akarim had joined Jauffre silently; Martin quickly catching the Blade’s eye.

“Grandmaster is this…?”

“Yes, Cyrus. This is the Emperor’s son, Martin Septim.”

Cyrus knelt down on one knee, bowing his head as he spoke.

“My lord! Welcome to Cloud Ruler Temple! We have not had the honour of an Emperor's visit in many years!”

“Ah, well, thank you!” Martin stood awkwardly, looking down at Cyrus. “ Ah… You don’t need to kneel.”

Jauffre had gestured towards the open gate.

“Come. Your Blades are waiting to greet you.”

“My Blades?”

He looked back at Akarim, slight confusion upon his face. Akarim could see that Martin was struggling to take everything in. He placed a hand on Martin’s shoulder, giving him a warm smile.

“You’re doing well.”

Martin gave a weak smile back.

“Come, my lord.”

He turned back towards Jauffre, taking a breath, before following him through the open gate; Akarim sticking close to Martin as they climbed the stairs as the true face of Cloud Ruler Temple was revealed.

It was beautiful in its own way. No larger than two levels, it sat higher up the mountain. The walls, as what Akarim previously though they were, were part of the platform that the building was set upon. He assumed that the Blade’s barracks must lay underneath.

The building itself looked to be based off Akaviri culture, with curved borders to the roof of stone tiles. It looked humble, though brilliant and grand.

Much like how Akarim saw Martin.

They had paused outside the main entrance to the building, having passed two rows of Blades to each side. Martin stood centre, Akarim to the left of him. Jauffre had stepped forward to address the Blades.

“Blades! Dark times are upon us. The Emperor and his sons were slain on our watch. The Empire is in chaos. But there is yet hope.” He gestured towards Martin. “Here is Martin Septim, true son of Uriel Septim!”

Blades were unsheathed and held in the air.

“Hail, Dragonborn! Hail, Martin Septim! Hail!”

“Your Highness. The Blades are at your command. You will be safe here until you can take up your throne.”

Martin nodded, stepping forward.

“Jauffre. All of you. I-I'm not used to giving speeches. But I wanted you to know that I appreciate your welcome here. I hope I prove myself worthy of your loyalty in the coming days.” He bowed his head, stepping back. “That's it. Thank you.”

“Well, then. Thank you, Martin. My lord.”

Jauffre bowed, turning and moving further up the stairs. Martin had turned to Akarim, relief evident on his face.

“Not much of a speech, was it?”

Akarim smiled.

“I thought it was well done. Seeing as though you did just think it up on the spot.”

“Didn’t seem to bother them, though.” He looked over to the Blades’ getting back to their posts. “The Blades saluting me and hailing me as Martin Septim…I-I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” He looked back at Akarim. “I know I would be dead by now if it weren’t for you. Thank you.”

“I-I…” Akarim swallowed, trying to stop the blush creeping across his cheeks. “It’s what I had to do.”

“I suppose this is what _I_ have to do now. Be the Emperor… But everyone expects me to suddenly know what to do. How to behave. They want an Emperor to tell them what to do. And I haven’t the faintest idea…”

“You seem to be doing well so far…”

“But I’m at a loss to what to do now.”

He looked it. Martin had been through so much already. Being thrust from one extreme to another…

“First thing’s first. We need to get the Amulet back.”

Martin nodded.

“Of course. The Amulet of Kings. So we…” Martin paused for a moment. “I… can take it to the Temple of the One and light the Dragonfires. And stop the Oblivion invasion.”

“And you will be the Emperor.”

“The Emperor…” Martin shook his head. “That’s an idea that will take some getting used to. In any case, we need the Amulet first. Maybe Jauffre will know where to start.”


	10. My Duty, Emperor-y Thingies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t think he deserved it. It had been sheer luck that he hadn’t died yet, or gotten anyone else killed. He wasn’t sure why he agreed to do this. He was a thief. A thief that was dragged into some ‘Divine’ plan by someone who had passed on.
> 
> Oh, wait. If he didn’t do this, the world would descend into chaos.
> 
> What a lovely ‘plan’ to be dragged into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah  
> might be a while until I post another chapter with shiz coming up  
> yeah, it's been a while since I last posted but this might be longer? maybe?  
> still unbeta'd. If there are drastic mistakes (misspelt names or shiz), please tell me  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

Martin had moved inside for the warmth. As they had climbed the mountain, the temperature had gotten significantly colder. Akarim wished he had packed warmer underwear. Not that he would be wearing it for long being here with-

“You have proven yourself a loyal servant of the Empire, as worthy as any of the Blades to stand by Martin’s side during this crisis.” Jauffre startled him out of his thoughts. Akarim pushed away other intruding thoughts of the Priest. That could wait for later. “As the Grandmaster of the Blades, I would be honoured to accept you into our order. Will you join us?”

“Oh… Uh…” It was a lot to process. The Blades were sworn to protect the Emperor with everything they had. Could he do that? Did he have that kind of courage? No. “Yes.” What was he doing? Why did he agree? “I will join the Blades.”

Jauffre bowed his head. “It is my honour to welcome you into our ranks as a Knight Brother of the Blades.”

He didn’t think he deserved it. It had been sheer luck that he hadn’t died yet, or gotten anyone else killed. He wasn’t sure why he agreed to do this. He was a thief. A thief that was dragged into some ‘Divine’ plan by someone who had passed on.  
  
Oh, wait. If he didn’t do this, the world would descend into chaos.  
  
What a lovely ‘plan’ to be dragged into.

If he didn’t do anything, he would most probably die.

“Shouldn’t we try to find the Amulet of Kings?”

Jauffre nodded.

“You’re right. We must try to recover the Amulet before the enemy takes it out of our reach. You should go back to the Imperial City. Baurus may have learned something about the assassins. You’ll find Baurus at Luther Broad’s Boarding House in the Elven Gardens district of the Imperial City. The Amulet of Kings is the key to everything now. Once we have it back. Martin can use it to light the Dragonfires in the Temple of the One, and reseal the barriers between Oblivion and our world.” He placed a hand on Akarim’s shoulder, giving him a smile. “I didn’t get the chance to thank you. Thank you for this. For bringing the Amulet to me. For finding Martin and getting him to safety. Without you, there would be no hope for Nirn.”

“Oh… Um, you’re welcome.”

Jauffre squeezed his shoulder before letting go.

“Martin’s moved inside. Might need someone to help settle down before you take off. He seems to be handling it well, but all of this has been very overwhelming.”

Akarim nodded, looking over to the doors into Cloud Ruler Temple. He moved inside, the warmth immediately relaxed his tense muscles. Yes. Definitely a good idea to speak with Martin before leaving.

“My lord... I would speak with you.”

Martin was standing by the fire, turning as a Blade addressed him.

“’My lord’? That isn't necessary. I'm just a man. Just a citizen of the Empire, trying to do his duty. Just like you.”

The Blade, Baragon, nodded.

“Of course, sire. I just wanted to let you know you're safe here, sir. Cloud Ruler is secure, and the Blades stand ready.”

“Thank you for your kind words. I never knew my father, but he must have been proud to call the Blades his protectors. I know I am.”

“If I may be so bold... you are the true Dragonborn, sir, there's no one here that doubts it. Any one of us would gladly die so that you may live.”

“Well, my friend, let's hope it doesn't come to that, hmm? We'll get through this together... as brothers.”

“My heart is lighter thanks to your words. You've given me kinship, and that is worth more than a thousand swords. Until then, friend.”

Martin smiled as Baragon moved away, turning back towards the fire.

“So, if you don’t want to be ‘My Lord’, what do you want to be called?” Akarim chuckled as Martin jumped at his voice. “My great King? Sire? Ooh. How about-”

“Martin is fine. Really. There’s no need to call me anything else.”

Akarim bowed.

“As you wish, Martin.”

“Stop bowing.” Martin smiled. “It’s weird enough with total strangers. I don’t need you doing it too.”

“Apologies.”

“I heard that you accepted Jauffre’s invitation into the order of the Blades.”

“Yes. I did.”

“Does that mean you’ll be staying here?”

“Jauffre wanted me to meet Baurus in the Imperial City. He was a Blade who was… there with your father. He might have information regarding the assassins.”

“Ah. Well, I’m glad that we have _something_ to work off of.” Martin crossed his arms and turned back towards the fire. “For a moment I was doubting that we would be getting anywhere.”

“Doubting? Do you know who you’re even talking to?” Akarim gestured to himself. “Please. I’ve got this. This whole crisis thing will blow over and we will never have to worry about it again.”

Martin glanced over at Akarim, looking him up and down.

“Says the one who was _seriously_ doubting it back at Weynon Priory. I remember you saying that you were anxious, angry, and feeling like all hope was lost.”

Akarim huffed.

“I didn’t say that. I asked if you were, and then…” He trailed off, dropping his eyes. “Okay. Yes. I did say that. But I don’t feel like that anymore. I haven’t since the moment we arrived. When we walked through those gates, when you made your speech, when everyone hailed you as the Emperor… I knew that hope would always be found.”

“You have a way with words. It’s… poetic. You’re poetic.” Martin smiled softly. “You would have done a better speech than me out there.”

“Thank you, but my way with words should never be weighed against your… Emperor-y thingies.”

“Ah, yes. The descriptive language of Akarim the Bosmer. Therefore, as Emperor, I hereby declare the change of ‘my duty’ to ‘Emperor-y thingies.’”

They had both started to laugh, when they were approached by another Blade.

“Sire? I am sorry to bother, but I can make that official, if you please.”

Akarim turned away quickly, almost doubling over as he stopped himself from laughing out loud.

“Ah, no. No, that is not necessary, but thank you. If there is anything I would like to make official, I will let you know.”

The Blade bowed his head.

“As you wish, Sire.”

As soon as Blade moved out of the room, Akarim released his laughter.

“Oh. My. Gods.” He managed to get out in between lungful’s of air. “Martin, how could you keep a straight face-“

Martin had his back turned to Akarim. His head was bowed, a hand covering his mouth.

Akarim stopped, moving over to Martin.

“Martin? Are you-“

“I can’t believe he asked if I wanted to make that official!” Martin almost choked out as he laughed. He grabbed Akarim’s shoulder, leaning on him for support as he wrapped an arm around his waist as he doubled over. Akarim had started laughing again, holding Martin up. “I don’t know how I even managed to stop myself from laughing when he came over!”

“I couldn’t breathe, I had to look away.”

“I could see your shoulders shaking. I was surprised that didn’t set me off.”

They both eventually calmed down. Akarim wiped tears from his eyes as Martin straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve laughed that hard.”

“I’m glad that I was here to experience it.”

“Akarim. Please tell me that you will return.”

Akarim smiled.

“Of course I will. I will have to return after reporting to Baurus. If anything, he will probably come back with me.”

“Good. I’m not sure how I will last without you around. I hope not everyone takes everything as seriously as that Blade.”

“You’ve just got to… watch what you say.”

“What? Are you saying that my sarcastic remarks will only be appreciated by you?”

Akarim gestured to the door that the Blade had exited through.

“Is that enough proof?”

Martin chuckled again.

“I suppose I can do that. It depends on how long you will take.”

“I don’t know how long I will be. A trip to the Imperial City from here should take me at least a day. I’m not sure how long I shall be with Baurus for, or what he might be intending to do.”

“Well, hurry back, then.”

Akarim smirked.

“Will do, Martin.” He stood for a moment longer, hesitating. He held out his hand towards Martin. “If anything does happens, it was nice knowing you.“

Martin rolled his eyes, taking Akarim's outstretched hand.

“You will return.”

Akarim smiled, turning Martin's hand over as he leant forward, pressing his lips to the back of Martin's hand. He looked back up at Martin.

"If that is what his Majesty commands, then it shall be."

Martin swallowed, watching as Akarim straightened up, letting go of his hand.

“G-go. You can at least make it to an Inn before nightfall.”

Akarim nodded, a smile still apparent on his face. “I will be back.” He moved towards the door to the courtyard, pausing to look back at Martin. He gave him a wink, before pushing through the doors, back into the cold of the Jerall Mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i think that martin would be a sarcastic lil shit and the blades would be rlly confused with some of the stuff he says  
> did you like this chapter?  
> if so, you should totes comment or something  
> if not, you should totes comment or something anyway  
> i've been going over previous chapters and i think i might do a rewrite once this is all finished (only because some of my early chapters are pretty weak ass)  
> anyway, yeh  
> thanks for sticking around this far :) i owe it all to the readers to keep me going


	11. Follower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m ready when you are.”
> 
> “Good. Remember, wait for him to follow me. I want to see what he’ll do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe this to my beautiful and fantastic beta reader, Kako.  
> You've been here since the beginning of this, and I'm so glad that you've enjoyed this fic.  
> This is a shout out to you. For others who have gotten this far into Peace Of Akatosh and enjoy male HoK/Martin Septim, I would strongly suggest that you check out Kako's The Mortal Akatosh because that shit is tight and currently has a sequel being written.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy this chapter

He passed the reins of his horse over to the stable woman, placing a handful of Septims into her hand with a smile. 

“Thank you. I’m not sure how long I will be staying here.”

She mirrored his smile.

“It is no problem. He will be among others. We will keep him healthy.”

“Thank you.”

He left with a nod, moving towards the entrance to the Talos Plaza. Baurus was waiting for him at Luther Broad’s Boarding House, hopefully with more information regarding the Emperor’s Assassination, but there was something he had to check on first.

* * *

He held his breath, listening for movement. Footsteps retreated from his hiding position, continuing on. He let go of his breath. That had been a close one. He slipped out, straightening up as he moved around the corner.

The chest was in sight. The contents were stashed away behind a lock.

He pulled out three lock picks.

Of course, he should only need one. _Should_.

He slipped the end of one inside the lock, carefully lifting the pin tumblers inside. A click signaled to twist, unlocking the chest. He slid the lock out of place, putting it onto the floor next to the chest. He grasped the lid, lifting it slowly. 

Empty.

Not even a single Septim.

He huffed, dropping the lid back down.

_Dammit_.

His glass bow. That was why he came here. The one given to him years ago. The one that he had taken care of for so long. Gone.

He took a breath.

Maybe it was time to move on. Maybe it was time to leave it behind. It happened a decade ago. He should just let it go.

He slid the lock back in place, snapping it shut.

* * *

He pushed his way into Luther Broad’s Boarding House. Leaving the Imperial Prison empty handed had left him in a slightly foul mood. It almost vanished when he caught sight of Baurus. He moved over to him, a greeting on the tip of his tongue-

“Sit down. Don’t say anything. Just do what I say.”

He made no hesitation, being in dire situations, he was used to putting on a façade. He instead called the bartender over, ordering a tank of mead. As it was placed in front of him, Baurus continued.

“Listen. I’m going to get up in a minute and walk out of here. That guy in the corner behind me will follow me. You follow him.”

Akarim spoke softly as he raised the tank to his lips.

“I’m ready when you are.”

“Good. Remember, wait for him to follow me. I want to see what he’ll do.”

He felt the outline of his dagger strapped to his thigh. Being in close proximity with someone would make it hard to aim with his bow. Especially in a tavern.

In the Talos Plaza.

In the Imperial City.

Akarim sure hoped that Baurus knew what he was doing.

He let the mead touch his lips, holding the position for a moment as Baurus stood up. He put the tank back down, watching Baurus out of the corner of his eye. He put his chin on his hand, bouncing his leg as he waited. He played with the rim of his tank, the new angle letting him view Baurus disappearing through another door, and his follower standing up.

As soon as the follower closed the door, Akarim was up, striding over to the door. He glanced around for a moment, before pushing inside quietly, unsheathing his dagger.

The door clicked shut behind him. He held his breath, listening for movement. There was a flash of red and the sound of conjuring armour. Akarim jumped from behind the corner, dodging out of the way of Baurus’ sword, and stepping behind the assassin. His movement was more of a distraction than anything, making the assassin falter for only a moment, but it was enough time for Baurus to land a killing blow.

The assassin fell silently, the conjured armour rippling out of existence.

“Search his body. I’ll keep an eye out, in case any of his friends are nearby.”

Baurus moved back towards the door, glancing back as Akarim sheathed his blade, turning the body over to search through pockets and satchels. He reached inside, pulling out a large book.

“Huh.” He turned it over in his hands, the cover velvety to touch. “Mythic Dawn Commentaries.” He read aloud as he stood, turning to hold the book out to Baurus. “This is all he had.” 

Baurus took the book, looking it over as he spoke.

“Good work.” He looked up at Akarim. “I am glad to see you, by the way. You just caught me at a bad time.” He pulled Akarim into a hug, clapping him on the back before pulling away.

“I’m glad to see you, too.” Akarim smiled. “What have you learned?”

“The assassins who killed the Emperor were part of a daedric cult known as the Mythic Dawn. Apparently they worship the Daedra Lord Mehrunes Dagon. I’ve been tracking their agents in the Imperial City.” He glanced over at the body on the floor. “I guess they noticed.” He looked back at Akarim. “What about you? Have you been successful?”

“The enemy has the Amulet.”

“What? They took it from Jauffre?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Things are worse than I had thought.”

“It could be even worse, but I found The Emperor’s heir.”

“Thank Talos he lives!”

“His name is Martin Septim. He was a priest of Akatosh at Kvatch.”

“He got out alive?”

Akarim nodded.                            

“He did. One of the only few who did.”

“Martin Septim, you say… We will restore him to the throne! It is the sworn duty of all Blades.”

“Jauffre and I took him to Cloud Ruler Temple. He’s safe there. At least, that’s what I was told.”

“And you were told the truth. It is the safest place the Emperor can be.”

“So, now that we know who is behind this, what’s our next move?”

“There’s a scholar at the Arcane University. Tar-Meena’s her name. Supposed to be an expert on daedric cults.” He passed the book back to Akarim. “Why don’t you take that book to her, see what she makes of it? I’ll keep running down leads on the Mythic Dawn network. If you learn anything, you can find me at Luther Broad’s. May Talos guide you.”

* * *

 

The guards opened the gate to the Arcane University. Akarim hesitated momentarily, before heading towards the main tower. It had been years since he’d been inside these walls. 

He didn’t belong here.

He didn’t belong amongst these mages.

He looked out of place with his bow and arrows and leather armour as he pushed his way through the entrance. He had a satchel around his shoulder with the Mythic Dawn Commentaries that he clutched onto as the doors closed behind him.

Two others were in the room besides him. He was approached by the Argonian.

“Tar-Meena?” He asked.

She nodded.

“Ah yes. You must be the one I got the message about. How can I help you?”

Baurus must have sent word ahead of Akarim’s arrival.

“Can you tell me about the Mythic Dawn?”

“You know of them? One of the most secretive of all the daedric cults. Not much is known about them. They follow the teachings of Mankar Camoran, whom they call the Master. A shadowy figure in his own right.”

“I found one of their books.”

He opened his satchel, passing it over to her.

“Ah yes. ‘Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes,’ wonderful! You have a scholarly interest in daedric cults, then?”

“I need to… find the Mythic Dawn.”

“Find them, eh?” She handed the book back to him. “I won’t poke my nose any further. Official business and all that. I’m used to working with the Blades, don’t worry. Say no more. In any case, finding them won’t be easy. I’ve studied Mankar Camoran’s writings a bit myself, at least those that I could find. It is clear from the text that Mankar Camoran’s ‘Commentaries’ come in four volumes, but I’ve only ever seen the first two books.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I believe that his writings contain hidden clues to the location of the Mythic Dawn’s secret shrine to Mehrunes Dagon. Those who unlock this hidden path have proven themselves worthy to join the ranks of the Mythic Dawn cult. Finding the shrines is the first test. If you want to find them, you’ll need all four volumes of the ‘Commentaries.’”

“Would you, by any chance, know where can I find these books?”

Tar-Meena moved over to the bookcase on the opposite side of the room, returning with a large book almost identical to the one Akarim was holding.

“Here, you can have the library’s copy of Volume Two.” She helped him put both books into the satchel. “Treat it gently, if you please. As I’ve said, I’ve never even seen the third and fourth volumes. You should try First Edition, over in the Market District. Phintias, the proprietor, caters to specialist collectors. He may have an idea of where to locate these books.”

“And if he says he doesn’t?”

“I suppose a little… _persuasion_  might give you a better answer.”

He mirrored her smirk. Yeah. He’d used that before.

“Who is Mankar Camoran?”

“The supposed leader of the Mythic Dawn cult, He wrote the infamous ‘Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes.’ The ‘Commentaries’ are contemporary with Tiber Septim, over 400 years ago. So he is unlikely to still be alive, although you never know.”

“And what is the Mysterium Xarxes?”

“The holy book of the Mythic Dawn. Supposedly written by Mehrunes Dagon himself. If it exists, it would be an artifact of great – and evil – power.”

Ah. Brilliant. And he was the one who would have to fetch it, wasn’t he?

“Thank you, Tar-Meena. I should be off now.”

“It was so nice chatting with you. Be sure to let me know how your hunt for the Mythic Dawn turns out.”

“Will do.”

* * *

He stepped inside the First Edition. Books, old and new, lined the walls in bookcases or stacks upon stacks across the floor. He was greeted by a Redguard behind the counter.

“I’m Phintias, owner and proprietor of the First Edition. Look around. If I don’t have it, maybe I can get it.”

“Do you have any copies of the Mysterium Xarxes?”

“You must be referring to Mankar Camoran’s ‘Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes,’ a  _common_  mistake.” Akarim had to force himself not to roll his eyes. The words pretentious and arsehole came to his mind. “It comes in four volumes. The first two volumes are rare, but you may run across them from time to time. The third and fourth are impossible to find.”

“I need to acquire volumes three and four.”

“I happen to have a copy of Volume Three on hand, but I’m afraid it is a…special order. Already paid for by another customer. Sorry. Gwinas would be terribly disappointed if it was gone when he came to pick it up. So sorry I can’t help you.”

“Can you tell me about the Commentaries, Three?”

Phinteas shook his head.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t sell it to you for any price. I’ve already promised it to someone else, and my word is my bond.”

Akarim pushed a small bag of Septims across the counter top.

“And how about now?”

“I’d like to help you, but the cost… I would have to try to obtain another copy for Gwinas, not to mention his disappointment if he found out…”

“Can you tell me about the Gwinas, then?”

“I don’t know him personally, but he was very eager to get his hands on Volume Three of Camoran’s ‘Commentaries.’ Came all the way from Valenwood!” Akarim raised an eyebrow.  _A Bosmer?_  “As a matter of fact, he’s already late for his appointment to pick up the book. Feel free to wait for him if you want to speak to him yourself.”

“I will, thank you.”

Phinteas picked up the bag, putting it into his pocket.

“No, thank  _you_.”

The door opened to a Bosmer in red robes. Not styled like the Mythic Dawn assassin’s, Akarim noted, but close enough. His stomach twisted slightly at the thought of someone wanting to join this cult. He moved past Akarim to the counter.

“I’m here for my book, Mankar Camoran’s ‘Commentaries,’ Volume Three.”

“Ah, of course.” He bent down, lifting a brown parcel and passing it to Gwinas. “Here you go. Keep us in mind for any future needs!”

“Ah, thank you, thank you! I can’t tell you how long I’ve been looking for this book.”

Akarim moved out of the way, letting Gwinas pass out the door, following him out.

“Excuse me, Gwinas, is it?”

Gwinas turned, frowning.

“What do you want?”

“I overheard you have a copy of the ‘Commentaries,’ Volume Three.”

“Have you been following me? Leave me alone! That book is mine!”

“Tell me about the Mythic Dawn cult.”

Gwinas’s face fell, just for a moment, before he composed himself.

“The Mythic Dawn? Are you… I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t know anything about any cult.”

Akarim rolled his eyes.

“Don’t play stupid, Gwinas.”

Gwinas cleared his throat.

“Very well. I can see you’re familiar with Mankar Camoran’s ‘Commentaries.’ I know that daedric cults are not quite the thing socially, but that’s just foolish prejudice and superstition. For the adventurous, open-minded thinker, daedric worship holds many rewards.”

Akarim shook his head in disbelief. How could one think like that?

“They killed the Emperor, you _fool_!”

“What?! The Mythic Dawn were the ones…?” He looked down at the package in his hands as he shook his head. He looked back up at Akarim. “You have to believe me! I truly had no idea. I mean, I knew they were a daedric cult. Mankar Camoran’s views on Mehrunes Dagon are fascinating, revolutionary even… But to murder the Emperor… Mara preserve us!”

“You’d better give me that book.”

“Yes. Of course!” He almost threw it at Akarim, putting more distance between him and the book. “I don’t want anyone to think I had anything to do with their insane plots! Here. Volume Three is yours. What you do with it is your business.”

“I need the fourth book as well.”

“You can only get Volume Four directly from a member of the Mythic Dawn. I had set up a meeting with the Sponsor, as he called himself.” He reached into a pocket, holding a piece of paper out to Akarim. “Here, take this note they gave me. It tells you where to go. I don’t want anything else to do with the Mythic Dawn.”

Akarim took the note from his hand, looking at it briefly.

“Is this-”

He looked up again, frowning. Gwinas was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged, slipping the note into the package with the book, before adding that to his satchel. His shoulder ached slightly at the added weight, and from carrying the books around for most of the day, but Luther Broad’s was only a couple of minutes away, where Baurus was, hopefully, waiting for him. He adjusted the strap before moving on to Luther Broad’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is for the rest of you that have not been with me from the beginning, but have been with me this far.  
> Thank you.  
> Thank you. One and all.  
> When I first started this, it was just a small thing I wanted to do with my character Akarim and I didn't think I would even get this far into this fic but from your continuous support, I've made it to chapter 12, and I've barely scratched the surface, so, thank you once again.


	12. The Sponsor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve acquired Volumes Two and Three, but there are four altogether.”
> 
> “Did you find out how to get it?”
> 
> “I’m going to have to meet with a Sponsor of the Mythic Dawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why but it took more effort to write this chapter than others, but I finally got it done! Yay!

The days were becoming cold after the heat of the recent months, and the nights even colder. The warmth of Luther Broad’s was welcoming and homey.

Baurus was sat in the same seat that Akarim had greeted him two days previously. His face brightened as Akarim approached, sitting down next to him.

“How did it go?”

“I’ve acquired Volumes Two and Three, but there are four altogether.”

“Did you find out how to get it?”

“I’m going to have to meet with a Sponsor of the Mythic Dawn.”

“This just might be the break we’ve been looking for! Good work.” Baurus clapped him on the back. “We need to get that fourth book, then. If Tar-Meena is right, we can use these books to locate the Mythic Dawn’s hidden shrine. Let’s go. I know that part of the sewers well.”

Akarim scrunched up his face with distaste.

“The sewers?”

Baurus chuckled.

“The sewers run underneath the whole Imperial City. There are access points in every district. The Blades have occasion to use them in our undercover work, as well as a means to move around the city without attracting attention.”

“I suppose we have no other choice?”

“Well, we do, but we’re short on time and I know how to get to the part of the sewers where we need to meet the Sponsor.”

Akarim sighed.

“Alright. But you’ll be scrubbing the stench of the sewers off my armour after this.”

Baurus chuckled again, moving out of the tavern.

“I’m not promising anything.”

* * *

“Ugh. This stinks! How do you use these tunnels with the constant smell?”

“Well, we don’t normally. Only in special circumstances do we use these tunnels.”

“Yeah. Because I feel  _really_  special right now- I think I just stepped in some sh-“

“Shut up! Your voice carries further inside these sewers. You’d want to keep it down. You don’t want them to know that we’re coming, do you?”

Akarim quirked an eyebrow as a twitch of a smile played across his lips.

“I don’t know. They might be into that.”

Baurus shook his head, sighing as he smiled.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Been called that before.”

The Redguard threw his hands up.

“Don’t you ever stop?!”

“Shh! Don’t you know that they can hear us coming?”

“For the love of- Is this how you got thrown into that cell?”

Akarim shrugged.

“Probably.”

“What actually happened?”

“I said something that I shouldn’t have and although I avoided getting my head smashed in, I was the one that got thrown into the cell.”

“Is that what usually happens?”

“You assume that it happens frequently?”

“Yes. And I’m right, aren’t I?”

“…Yeah. But that was the first time I couldn’t get bailed out or pick the lock before you showed up.”

“Have you ever thought about… not getting thrown into a cell?”

“What, me? Refusing to speak at all? Do you even know who you’re talking to? And hey, if it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t have gotten dragged into this mess.”

“Hmm. True.”

“So, there you have it. My talkative trait did good for once. Kind of good. I mean, I think I’ve done good. Have I done good? All I’ve done is what people have told me and I’ve just happened to be on a good streak for this past week or so-“

“Akarim.”

“-and here I am, treading through the sewers of the Imperial City with a Blade talking about my life of being thrown into cells for talking too much, speaking of which, if you could get a word into the-“

“Akarim! Shut up!”

“Rude. A simple ‘please’ can take you a long way.”

“We’re almost there. Could you at least speak quieter?”

“I wasn’t the one who just shouted.”

Baurus huffed.

“Could you  _please_  be quiet?”

“Yes.” Akarim whispered. “I can.”

The Blade rolled his eyes, leading Akarim around a corner, and another, before coming to a stop outside a door.

“Alright. The room with the table is just through this door.” Baurus had paused outside a door, leaning closer to Akarim so he could speak quieter. “I always wondered who put it there. I happen to know that if you go up the stairs there, you can get a vantage point on the meeting room. I think I’d better be the one to handle the meeting. You’ll be my backup. Keep watch from above in case of trouble.”

Akarim gripped his bow, glancing above him at another door higher above them.

“Alright. I’ll cover you.”

“Good. Remember, we must not leave here without the book. It’s our best chance of finding the Amulet.”

He nodded.

“I’m ready when you are.”

“Listen. I may not survive this. But if I don’t, you must. You must recover the book and find the Amulet of Kings.”

“I understand. We’ll do it – together.”

“I’m glad to have you at my back. Okay. Let’s do this.”

Baurus pushed his way through the door, letting it close behind him. Akarim waited for a moment before he moved up to the other entrance, quietly moving inside.

“So. You want to become one of the Chosen of Mehrunes Dagon.” Akarim held his breath as the door clicked shut, hoping it went unnoticed. “The Path of Dawn is difficult. But the rewards are great.” He closed his eyes in relief, quietly moving out of the small alcove he was in to peer around the corner, taking in possible entrances and exits for others. “I have the book you seek. With it and the Master’s three other books you will possess the key to enlightenment.” He strung an arrow, having it ready if he were to use it. “But do you have the wit and strength to use the key that you have been given? If so, I will see you next at Dagon's Shrine. Yes, I think you may...”

A gate swung open on the other side of the bridge where Akarim was perched. He twisted around, drawing his bow and aiming it at the first Mythic Dawn Agent approaching him.

“There is some else here-”

He toppled off the bridge, arrow protruding from his forehead, slamming onto the table between Baurus and the Sponsor.

“I told you to come alone! Brothers, kill them!”

Baurus unsheathed his blade, side stepping out of the way as a shock spell was cast in his direction. Akarim only watched for a moment longer before he narrowly avoided a destruction spell aimed towards him. He used his bow to deflect the slash of a blade, unsheathing one of his own to slice across the arm it was attached to. The Mythic Dawn Agent screamed, stumbling back as Akarim kicked him in the stomach. He lost his footing on the bridge, tumbling off and landing with a dull thud on the floor below. Akarim winced at the crack of bone, slinging his bow back over his shoulder as he sheathed his dagger.

“You okay?”

He turned around; Baurus was looking up at Akarim from the floor, three bodies at his feet.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. That could have gone smoother. Can’t say I minded killing a few more of these bastards, though. Come down here, get the book.”

“Why can’t you get it yourself?”

“I’m busy being a guard. Because that’s my job?”

Akarim rolled his eyes, moving to the ground floor. He rolled the Sponsor’s body over, patting down his pockets before pulling out the final copy of the Commentaries.

“Got it.”

“Good.” Baurus nodded, sheathing his blade. “Let’s get out of here.”

They moved quietly through the tunnels, keeping an ear out for any other agents that could be present, and avoiding possible combat if they were to encounter any. They didn’t, arriving on the surface without another scratch.

“Now that you have all four books, you should be able to handle things from here.”

“You do realise that I’m just doing everything that Martin and Tar-Meena tell me to do. I really have no idea where this is heading.”

Baurus shrugged.

 “Then you must be a good listener. We’re both still alive, and we have all four books.”

“Good point.”

“I’m going to Cloud Ruler Temple. My place is at Martin’s side.”

Akarim nodded.

“I’ll see you back at Cloud Ruler Temple.”


	13. A Thief, Not a Dick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, where have you been? It’s been a fortnight.”
> 
> “You probably won’t believe me.”
> 
> “Try me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyyyyy  
> So, exams have had me held up with my chapters. Good news is that I've got most of Akarim's plot worked out (i keep adding more and more to his backstory and his relationship with Martin). Bad news is that this is probably going to take longer to finish.  
> Huge thanks to my beta reader Kako  
> Anyway, enjoy.

He yawned as he headed through the gates to the Arcane University. The sun was rising, which meant that it was coming to about six.

Which meant that Akarim missed a night's rest. 

Which meant that he wouldn’t get to sleep until he was back at Cloud Ruler Temple.

He rubbed his eyes as he stepped into the Arcane Tower, pausing for a moment. He didn’t even think about if Tar-Meena would be up at this hour or not.

“Akarim?”

… Which apparently she was.

“Morning.”

“It is?” She glanced out the window. “Oh, dear. I studied through the night again.”

“You didn’t realise?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve studied through the night.”

Akarim smiled.

“I’ve partied through a night. Well, three, actually. It was a good party. Didn’t realise it until someone mentioned that it was Tirdas, not the next night.”

“Sounds like a good night if you forget to sleep.”

“It’s not good on my health, and I’ve never done it again.”  

“I think two nights are my limit.”

“Yeah? Was that a party or did you study?”

Tar-Meena closed her book, leaning back on the bench.

“I’ve been studying here for many years. What do you think?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to go out to a party once in a while.”

“Oh, no. Definitely not. While studying, they don’t want us doing anything of the sort until we’re finished.”

“But, shouldn’t you have finished a while ago, if that were the case?”

“I like it. I’ve taken up more courses along the way.”

“Ah. That makes sense.”

“Speaking of not sleeping, you haven’t slept either, have you?”

Akarim shook his head.

“No. I haven’t.”

“If you want, we have a spare bed if you want a rest?”

“As tempting as it sounds, I’ve wasted enough time already.” He reached into his bag, pulling out the final two copies of the Commentaries. “Can you tell me anything else about the Mythic Dawn?”

“To find their secret shrine to Mehrunes Dagon, you’ll need to study the four volumes of Mankar Camoran’s “Commentaries.” It is a fairly common practice of these kinds of esoteric cults to put hidden messages within their sacred writings. In effect, simply by finding their way to the shrine, prospective members have already passed the first test on the road to “enlightenment.” You’ve piqued my curiosity about this puzzle. I will think on it myself and let you know if I have any ideas. Check back with me tomorrow after I’ve given this matter some thought. The first two volumes I borrowed from my colleagues, and I spent a little time rereading them. Mankar Camoran certainly is a fascinating writer. Undoubtedly insane, but fascinating.” She glanced up at Akarim for a moment. “Ah, but more to the point, it appears to me that the first words of each paragraph may be significant. A message may be hidden there. I’ll continue to study the problem. Come by tomorrow if you like. I may think of something else.”

“Well, if that’s the case, could I take up that offer on the bed again?”

* * *

He didn’t expect to sleep through the entire morning. He woke early afternoon, judging by the light streaming through the window. Tar-Meena wouldn’t have finished working through the Commentaries yet, so he instead headed back into the Imperial City.

More specifically, the Waterfront. 

“Akarim?”

He approached Armand Christophe, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

He was approached by the Redguard suddenly, who reached out to grab his shoulder.

“We thought you died!”

What?   “What?”

“I knew you were thrown into prison, I was making the arrangements to get you out when the guard said that the cell was empty.”

“I didn’t think you’d made arrangements. I didn’t have time to get a hold of you.”

“I always have an eye on you. It was taking longer than expected to bail you out, but I thought something else had happened. We all did. There was nothing. Not a trace from you. I thought- we thought maybe an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood had gotten you-”

“Well, they didn’t-”

“Or the Imperial Guard had done something-“

“All they did was piss me off-“

“But there was nothing, Akarim! Nothing! We couldn’t help but think the worst had come.”

“The worst hasn’t come. I’m still alive.”

“Yeah. I can see that.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before they both broke into laughter, embracing with pats on the back.

“Good to see you’re alive.”

“Good to see you again.”

They pulled away, still smiling.

“So, where have you been? It’s been a fortnight.”

“You probably won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Akarim held up his hands.

“I can’t tell you all the details, in case others are hearing, but I was there when the Emperor was assassinated, and we’re trying to stop the world from descending into chaos.”

“…What?”

“I said you wouldn’t believe me.”

“What’s the ‘Divine’ plan?”

“I can’t tell you. Not in public.”

Armand narrowed his eyes.

“This… What in Oblivion, Akarim?”

“Like I said, you wouldn’t believe me-“

“No no. What I don’t believe is why didn’t you sell the Amulet of Kings when you had it.”

“Excuse me?”

“The most priceless jewel in Tamriel. It was in your hands. You could have sold it for a pretty penny.”

“Hey, Armand?”

“Yes, Akarim?”

“If the Emperor’s dying wish was to keep the Amulet of Kings safe, would you do it?”

“I don’t see-“

“His last words with his final breath. He knew he was going to die. He wanted to make sure his word was fulfilled. Would you have kept the Amulet safe?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“I’m a thief, but I’m not a dick.”

“You are a dick.”

“Okay, I am, but at least I fulfilled the Emperor’s last words.”

“So, the Amulet is safe?”

“… Good question.”

“What did you do with it?”

“I didn’t do anything. The person I gave it to, to keep it safe, was ambushed and it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Of course it did.”

Akarim folded his arms across his chest.

“Shut up.”

“So, what does that mean now?”

“We have a plan.”

“’We’?”

“Yes.”

“…And that’s all you’re going to say?”

“Yes.”

“And what about us. The Thieves Guild? Are you still working for us?”

“I’ll come back. Maybe. I’ll have to see what happens.”

“Once a thief, always a thief, Akarim.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Well, what ever does happen, you know I’m here. You know the Thieves Guild is here.”

“Thanks, man.”

Armand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck with everything.”

Akarim smiled.

“Yeah. You too.”

* * *

“Excellent. Let’s see… yes! The first letter of each paragraph spells out a message!” Tar-Meena had spread the Commentaries across a table, furiously flipping pages as she spoke. “Write this down.” Akarim quickly reached for a pen and paper, leaning over the table next to her. “’Green Emperor Way Where Tower Touches Midday Sun.’ Are you familiar with Green Emperor Way?”

Akarim nodded, finishing writing the last word. 

“Of course. The gardens around the Imperial Palace.”

“Something must be revealed there at noon! How exciting!” She closed all the book, a glint in her eye at the discovery. “I've half a mind to go down to Green Emperor Way myself and see what's there, but alas, I have to remain here. Well, good luck! I hope you find what you're looking for.”

“Thank you, Tar-Meena. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, Akarim. I enjoy it. My only request is that you visit me once in a while. I have enjoyed your company, no matter how brief it was.”

“And I, too. Take care.”

“You too.”


	14. Green Emperor Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why does it say to go there?"
> 
> "That's where I'm meeting the Mythic Dawn."
> 
> "And then what?"
> 
> "I'm... getting the Amulet of Kings?"
> 
> "And how are you going to do that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooooo  
> Sorry about the late update. Finally got a laptop to write this on (Evernote is just as good as Word, I found out). Also writing lil snippets of Akarim's life before the oblivion crisis that i might post. Depends if there are spoilers or not (have something pretty gr8 planned for the bosmer). Also, this has not been beta read, apologies for any mistakes.  
> Anyway, enjoy.

Akarim paced around the gardens for the fifth time, sighing to himself.

He didn't know where to look. He didn't even know what exactly it was he was looking for. Was it even noon? He looked up at the sun. Judging by the position, it must have been close to. He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face.

_Green Emperor Way Where Tower Touches Midday Sun._

He looked up at the White Gold Tower, frowning. If he moved just over there...

He moved back around the garden, before slowing to a stop. The sun was perched right atop the tower, like the perfect decoration on a cake.

Okay.

...

Now what?

There was nothing different. Was something supposed to open? Was there an entrance or something that he had to find?

He looked at the tomb in front of him. The tomb of Prince Carmarril. A carving of the sun etched in stone drew him in. He stepped forward reaching out.

It began to glow, and he pulled his hand back. Underneath the sun was a map. A map of Cyrodiil, with a marker that Akarim assumed was the meeting point. He drew what he believed to be quite a good drawing of the map and the marker before folding the paper and putting it into his pocket.

 

* * *

 

Armand opened the door, surprise written on his face.

"You're back?"

"Yes, I am."

"Is there... A reason why?"

Akarim raised an eyebrow as a smile grew on his face.

"There is, actually, but I didn't think you cared for a reason as long as you got to see me."

Armand rolled his eyes.

"What do you need?"

"Do you have a very detailed map of Cyrodiil?"

"Yeah. Come in." He closed the door behind Akarim. "Why do you specifically need a detailed map?"

"I need to figure out where this place actually is," He pulled out his hand drawn map, "because I have no idea where this is."

Armand took the paper from Akarim's hands.

"Hey, that's a pretty good drawing."

"I know. I spent a lot of time and effort on it."

"Liar. If you spent more time on it, there wouldn't be this ink smudges all over it."

Akarim held up his hands.

"You caught me. I leant on my leg to draw it."

The Redguard gave the drawing back before going through his draws.

"It should be here somewhere... Yes! Here we go." He pulled it out, spreading it across the desk. There were numerous tagged caves, Ayleid ruins, small settlements... Actually, it looked like everything was labeled. "Where is that map marker?"

Akarim held his map up, reaching out to put his finger right on top of-

"Lake Arrius?"

"That's what it looks like."

"Why does it say to go there?"

"That's where I'm meeting the Mythic Dawn."

"And then what?"

"I'm... getting the Amulet of Kings?"

"And how are you going to do that?"

Akarim opened his mouth to speak before stopping himself. How was he going to do to get the Amulet of Kings?

"Good question. I suppose I'm going to find out." He turned towards the door. "Best be on my way now." A hand on his arm stopped him from going any further.

"So, that's it?"

Akarim paused.

"What's 'it'?"

"You're just going to fuck off? Not telling me anything? For the love of the Gods, Akarim!"

He turned back towards Armand.

"Christophe-"

Armande held up his hand.

"Uh, no." He pointed a finger at the Bosmer. "You lost my last-name-as-a-name-privilege rights. No. You don't do that. You don't go missing and not let me know about anything that's going on. You don't just rock up here like nothing has happened." He started stalking towards Akarim, finger still pointed at him, "You don't get to swagger in here like you own the place and not even ask how Deseryth or I are doing." He had backed Akarim up against the wall with his advances. "You're such a fucking prick sometimes, do you know that?"

Akarim let out a breath, looking up at Armand as his lips quirked up into a smirk.

"If you wanted to have reunion sex, you should have just asked."

The Redguard closed his hand into a fist, huffing angrily, before almost punching the wall above Akarim's head with his fist.

"I fucking hate you."

"Just because I'm right."

"Fucker."

He fisted the collar of Akarim's shirt peeking out from his leather cuirass, pulling him into a bruising kiss. Akarim responded by moaning softly against his lips, hands gripping Armand's arms. They pulled apart for a moment, breathing heavily, before Akarim let out a laugh.

"Make my time worth it."

 

* * *

 

He slipped slowly out of Armand's embrace. He shivered at the cool morning air. Quietly slipping on his cuirass and greaves, he picked up his boots and weapons. Heading towards the door, a voice stopped him.

"You're a dick."

He turned around.

"I need to-"

"I know. You need to go." Armand rolled onto his back. "But you could have at least said goodbye."

"I'm sorry."

Armand waved towards the door.

"Go save the world or whatever it is you're doing." He sighed, running his hands across his face and then through his hair. "I better see you again."

Akarim opened the door. Not even the first rays of the morning sun had appeared on the horizon.

"Of course."

"Stay safe."

Akarim smiled, before the door closed behind him.

 

* * *

 

He wandered around the perimeter of the lake. The waterfall was golden against the first rays of the morning sun.

Nice place they've got set up here.

He took a deep breath. The morning air cooling his lungs. He rolled his head, rubbing his neck. He paused, probing slightly at a sore spot on his neck.

"Damn me to Oblivion." He muttered. "Told him not to mark."

He sighed. Armand... Maybe he should just go back to Armand, back to the Thieves Guild. Definitely would seem like the safer thing to do. Akarim didn't really like the idea of being taken prisoner, again. Or killed. Or both. The Thieves Guild was his family. He had been with them for so long. He had seen the Grey Cowl get passed from one Grey Fox to the next. He'd seen the humiliation of Hieronymus Lex and his eventual relocation to Anvil.

Long story short, he had been there for a while.

But.

The only thing that kept him going was the fact that if he did not get the Amulet of Kings, not only would he die, everyone else would as well.

Trying to stop the end of the world was more stressful than he had imagined.

He stopped in his tracks. He had wandered around to the top of the waterfall. Maybe the entrance was somewhere behind the waterfall?

No. There wasn't anywhere to step behind without being soaked to the bone, and the Mythic Dawn didn't look like the type to get wet. Well, not in that way.

He crouched down, looking across the lake where a couple were walking along the path up the hill. A couple wearing all too familiar robes of a bright red colour. A couple that Akarim decided were the best to follow if he were to find the entrance to the Shrine of Dagon.

Success.

 

* * *

 

"Dawn is breaking."

"Greet the new day."

The cultist smiled. Not like a wow-thanks-for-this-gift kind of smile. It was kind of like a you-know-why-you're-here-and-I-helped-kill-the-Emperor-and-we're-both-going-to-take-over-the-world kind of smile. It wasn't pleasant, but Akarim saw it fit to return a yes-I-know-you-killed-the-emperor-and-I'm-not-here-to-ruin-your-plans-no-that-is-the-last-thing-on-my-mind kind of smile.

"Welcome, brother. The hour is late, but the Master still has need for willing hands. You may pass into the Shrine. Harrow will take you to the Master for you initiation into the service of Lord Dagon. Do not tarry. The time of Preparation is almost over. The time of Cleansing is near."

The cultist opened the door, allowing Akarim to pass through, where the cavern turned into a series of tunnels. He felt out of place without red robes of his own.

Speaking of red robes...

"I am Harrow, Warden of the Shrine of Dagon. By following the Path of Dawn hidden in the writings of the Master, Mankar Camoran, you have earned a place among the Chosen." Ooh, fancy. "You have arrived at an opportune time. You may have the honor to be initiated into the Order by the Master himself." Talk about timing. "As a member of the Order of the Mythic Dawn, everything you need will be provided for you from the Master’s bounty." 'Bounty'? More like boot- "Give me your possessions, and put on this initiate’s robe."

Oh shit.

He hesitated, gripping his bow against his chest. Did they know? Did they want him vulnerable before attackin-

"Please, Brother. We mean no harm to you. You shall receive replacements after the initiation. Now please, the initiation will commence soon."

Akarim gripped his bow, pulling it off before handing it over along with his sheath of arrows and his well drawn map. Robes were placed into his hands and he was ushered into a side room to change.

He tied the belt around his waist, then grabbed the edge of his hood and flicked it up.

Now he looked the part.

He stepped out where Harrow, who he had heard another call him and the one that took his bow, was waiting for him.

"Very good. Follow me. I will take you to the Shrine."He gestured ahead of them. "Please. This way."

They were very polite for a group planning to burn Nirn.

"The Dragon Throne is empty, and we hold the Amulet of Kings!" A voice echoed through the tunnels. "Praise be to your Brothers and Sisters! Great shall be their reward in Paradise!"

"Praise be." A chorus of voices

How many people were expecting to join?

The tunnel opened to a larger cavern. What caught Akarim's eye was the speaker, the 'Master', that the cultists were talking about, who was on a raised platform above. Oh, and the giant statue of Mehrunes Dagon towering over everything. You couldn't really miss that either.

"Hear now the words of Lord Dagon. 'When I walk the earth again, the Faithful among you shall receive your reward: to be set above all other Mortals forever. As for the rest: the weak shall be winnowed; the timid shall be cast down; the mighty shall tremble at my feet and pray for pardon.'"

"So sayeth Lord Dagon. Praise be." Came the reply from the initiates.

Akarim was ushered down to the rest of the initiates, choosing to watch from the back of the group. Looking up at the speaker, Mankar Cameron. A High Elf, by the look of him. He was dressed in blue robes, which really stood out against the red. Definitely could pick him out if he were to stand in a middle of his follows.

"Your reward, Brothers and Sisters! The time of Cleansing draws nigh. I go now to Paradise. I shall return with Lord Dagon at the coming of the Dawn!"

Wait... wait wait wait, no.

Mankar Cameron turned around, casting a spell. Akarim didn't know what to do. He couldn't just run up and take it now. Not when he had no weapons. He could fight with his hands. He had done it before, but not up against one, two, three... seven... twelve... okay a lot of people.

A flash of light distracted him. A portal had opened in front of Cameron, golden and rippling. He stepped through, and it closed immediately behind him.

What in Oblivion was Akarim supposed to do now?

"We have a new Brother who wishes to bind himself to the service of Lord Dagon."

Oh shit.

He was supposed to do something with the initiation. What was he meant to do?

"Advance, initiate."

Oh shit.

He swallowed, moving up towards the platform. He glanced over at the pedestal where Cameron had stood. A book was rested upon the stand. Maybe that had something to do with the portal? He was ushered up to stand in front of the statue of Mehrunes Dagon. Well, not quite in front. Beneath the statue was a stone slab, and on the stone slab was an unclothed Argonian. Akarim didn't know if the Argonian was alive or not.

"You have come to dedicate yourself to Lord Dagon’s service. This pact must be sealed with red-drink, the blood of Lord Dagon’s enemies. Take up the dagger and offer Lord Dagon the sacrificial red-drink as pledge of your own life’s blood, which shall be his in the end."

Oh shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know this is supposed to be a HoK/Martin fic but there is a reason behind Akarim and Armand's actions. It'll come up later.  
> Thanks for reading. Couldn't do it without my readers.  
> Please comment. I'd love to hear how I'm going with this :)


	15. Dagon Shrine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I need... I need to get this to Martin." He reached into his robe, pulling out the book. "M-Martin-"
> 
> "I'm here."
> 
> He looked up at the voice, thrusting the book into Martin's hands. 
> 
> "Here. Have fun with it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit im on a roll with these chapters (may have spoken too soon. i dont know how well I'll be with the next chapter)  
> This chapter is unbeta'd, so apologies for any mistakes.  
> Anyway, enjoy.

He was given a blade. A ceremonial dagger, judging by the designed etched into the hilt. Daedric, it looked like. 

 He gripped the dagger, moving closer to the Argonian, who was just mentioned to still be alive. Akarim's palms were sweaty. There were two cultists behind him. Did they have weapons? He forgot to check. There was still the possibility of them being trained in magicks as well. He had to save this prisoner. Maybe save. Would waking him be enough? He took a breath. Wake prisoner. Distract cultists behind him. Grab mysterious book. Get the fuck out of there.

He leant over the prisoner, placing a hand on his shoulder. He raised the blade slowly above his head with his other hand. The prisoner was not waking. He shook harder, breathing a soft sigh of relief when the prisoner blinked his eyes open. 

 

"Wh..."

"Shh. You need to escape. Now. I can't help you."

"Brother, slay the sacrifice."

The cultist behind him stepped closer. Akarim mouthed 'run' to the Argonian as he gripped the blade tighter. He whipping around and slashing blindingly. The cultist reeled back, holding their arm as they cried out.

"Why you-!" Akarim pushed them into the other cultist, who toppled to the floor. He ran towards the pedestal, grabbing the book. It hummed in his hand, it was a strange feeling.

"Lord Dagon!"

A cracking sound echoed throughout the cavern. Everyone but Akarim seemed to pause and watch the statue of their idol fall. The distraction gave Akarim enough time to dodge through the crowd and stuff the book into his robes.

"Get him!"

He ducked under a swinging arm, scrambling up the stairs to the tunnel out of the cavern.

"Kill him!"

A shock spell just missed him, hitting a rock next to him instead. So they were trained in magicks.

Great.

He swung the door open, stepping behind it just as another shock spell was aimed at him. He didn't have time to shut the door behind him before he sprinted up the tunnel. He took a right, then another right, then a left...?

That wasn't the entrance.

Nothing about the area was familiar at all.

Akarim could feel the rising panic in his chest. His breaths quickened as he heard others shouting behind him.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

He was lost. He didn't know where to go. He couldn't defend himself against 10 people at once. Not with the small blade he had.

He was going to be killed.

Unless...

He looked at his hands. He could try-

"Hey! Over here!" He looked up. The Argonian had popped out from behind a wall. "This way!"

He ran over, following the other through the tunnels. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting... Anything, but it was quiet.

Had they lost them?

"There they are!"

Obviously not.

"We're almost there!"

"How do you know where to go? You were asleep this entire time!"

"I found a map."

"Just then?"

The Argonian held a paper up in response.

"Oh, and some clothes as well."

They rounded two more corners, footsteps gaining on them.

"Up ahead!"

There it was. The entrance. The light from outside making it seem otherworldly.

"We're almost there-!"

Akarim stumbled forward with the impact, the blade flying from his hand. He turned, looking up at the face of his attacker. They had conjured their own armour and sword. They raised the sword above their head, ready to strike.

"Die, Bosmer!"

Akarim raised his hands, but not to protect himself, no. He felt the heat gather at his palms as he focused. Two fire bolts launched, hitting his attacker right in the middle of their chest. They flew backwards, smashing onto a pile of rocks. The feeling running through made him sick to the stomach.

He scrambled backwards, flipping over and sprinting out the door. It was flung open, blinding him. He didn't care. All he needed was to get as far away from the caverns as he could. He ran past the lake, moving back down the hill.

Cloud Ruler Temple. He needed to get back there.

He redirected himself towards the Jerall Mountains, off the road and across the-

"Where are you going?"

He whipped around, panting heavily. The Argonian was running towards him.

When did he get behind him? Wasn't he in front before?

"Cl-Cloud Ruler Temple. I need to-to give Martin-"

"You're wounded."

"I-I know, okay? I don't care at the moment. All I need is to get back to Martin." He kept walking, gritting his teeth through the pain. He hadn't noticed it before the Argonian had brought it up. "I need to get back to Martin."

"Can I at least know your name? You did save me, after all."

Akarim tuned around.

"I'm... I'm Akarim."

"Thank you. I am Jeelius. I am a Priest in the Temple of the One. Perhaps our paths will cross again, one day."

Akarim nodded.

"One day."

He turned and continued on his way, stumbling over the uneven terrain. He felt numb. Acting almost on automatic, he travelled back to Cloud Ruler Temple. The humming of the book grounded him, allowed him to focus on the here and now.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally spotted the high walls that surrounded the building. He pushed further, frowning when he heard shouts from inside.

"The Mythic Dawn! It's an agent of the Mythic Dawn!"

Oh right. The red robes.

He held his hands up, taking off his hood.

"I'm not the Mythic Dawn!"

The gates opened, two Blades rushing out with their Akaviri katana's drawn.

"For the Emperor!"

Akarim stood his ground, as best as he could, anyway.

"Stop! Please! I'm not the Mythic Dawn!"

They slowed their step, lowering their weapons.

"Akarim?"

One of the two was Cyrus, who immediately sheathed his blade.

"Yes. It's me."

"You've returned!"

"Yes, I have. Can I come inside? I have to give something to Martin."

"Of course. Come."

He followed behind the Blades. His back was throbbing in pain. He was surprised he hadn't gone into shock yet. He stumbled slightly on the stairs, just avoiding smashing his head into the stone. Cyrus had caught him, gripping onto his arm.

"I'm okay." He tried standing again, only to collapse again. He heard Cyrus' sharp intake of breath.

"He's wounded!"

"I'm fine... really."

Cyrus pulled Akarim's arm over his shoulder, supporting him as they moved up the stairs. Akarim winced in pain at the movement.

"He needs healing!"

Akarim's vision had started darkening around the edges. That wasn't a good sign.

"I need... I need to get this to Martin." He reached into his robe, pulling out the book. "M-Martin-"

"I'm here."

He looked up at the voice, thrusting the book into Martin's hands.

"Here. Have fun with it."

And, he was out.

* * *

"Oww..."

Akarim groaned regained consciousness, he felt heavy and slow.

"Sorry."

"Mm... Sure."

"I'm trying my best."

The voice was coming from somewhere behind him.

"'Hurts."

"I know."

With a groan, Akarim turned his head to face the speaker.

"Bad?"

Martin shook his head.

"It's long, but it's not deep."

"...is that good?"

"It was a good thing you got to me when you did." 

"Well, good then."

He felt the healing energy from Martin's hands across his back. It was a strange sensation, but it was soothing. The wound hurt, but at least it was bearable. Martin had pushed up his sleeves of his robe to above his elbow. Hie eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he worked.

Akarim closed his eyes, letting out a breath. He shifted himself slightly, before he paused.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Akarim blinked.

"Am I naked?"

Martin chuckled.

"No. Only your top half is bare."

"Oh good."

Martin's hands stilled, before pulling away.

"That's all I can do for now. Do you want to move around?"

"Do I have to?"

"No. It would be better to remain where you are, actually. I put a salve on the wound before you woke, and it's still setting."

"Good, because I didn't want to move anyway."

"Did you want me to leave you to rest?"

"How long was I out for?"

"Couple of hours."

Akarim moved his arm slowly, reaching out to grab Martin's hand.

"Stay." He felt Martin hesitate. "Unless there's something you need to do. Then you can go. I don't mind."

Martin squeezed his hand, before letting go.

"I'll stay." He pulled up a chair next to the table Akarim was upon. As he sat, he rolled down his sleeves. "I do want to hear of what happened to you over these past couple of days."

"I found the Mythic Dawn."

"I... figured that one out for myself."

Akarim smirked.

"I met Baurus in the Imperial City and... Is he here?"

"He helped carry you here."

"Oh. So, you've met?"

"He hasn't left my side. He insists on guarding me."

"He blames himself for the Emperor's death."

"I know. I can see it when he speaks to me. Oh, he did mention sewers?"

"The Blade need a better tunnel system than those sewers, and the Mythic Dawn need a better meeting place than those sewers."

"You didn't like the sewers?"

"It was disgusting."

"Understandable."

"Mmm. The Mythic Commentaries had a message thing that Tar-Meena figured out and it took me to Green Emperor Way where a map was shown to the location of the Mythic Dawn main place... Mehrunes thingy..."

"Mehrunes Dagon shrine?"

"Yeah, that thing. And I had to go through an initiation and Mankar Camoran was there and he took... he took the Amulet of Kings and walked through a portal and disappeared. It was right there and he escaped. He's still got it."

"I gathered he had it, seeing as though you returned without it."

"What happens now?"

"Well, someone gave me this book before collapsing in front of me, and it seems that this book is actually quite important."

"It hummed against my chest."

"Yes, because it is actually quite dangerous to handle."

"It didn't do anything to me."

"I felt some energy in you while I was healing. It was of a magic quality. I suspect it was from the Mysterium Xarxes, unless you decided to cast some spells while you were away."

"Akarim shook his head to the best of his ability, which was only a slight movement against the table beneath him.

"Told you, I can't get my head around magicks. And that's the name of the book?"

"Yes. I'll have to study it. It has to be linked to the whereabouts of Mankar Camoran, because if we find him then we find-"

"The Amulet of Kings." Akarim finished.

"Precisely."

"Does that mean I have to stick around longer?"

"No one is forcing you to stay, Akarim. You didn't need to do any of this."

Akarim sighed.

"I'll feel guilty if I just walked away from this. I have thought about it, but I... I can't. Not anymore. Not after everything that has happened. I've seen literal Oblivion and I don't want that to happen here."

"What if there is something that you cannot do to help?"

"I can tell pretty good stories about my life."

"That, you can."

Akarim smiled.

"And anyway, I'd miss you if I were to leave."

"You would?"

"Of course."

Martin was silent, but only for a moment.

"Can I ask about the tattoo on your shoulder?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it Ayleid?"

"Yes. Av latta Magicka, av molag anyammis. It means; From light, magic; from fire, life."  
  
  
  


"Is there a reason behind why you got it?"

"It looked nice."

"Ah."

Akarim smiled, shaking his head.

"It wasn't just that. I have Ayleid blood in me."

"An ancestor?"

"Yeah, but it was a very long time ago."

"Ah."

"Yep."

Akarim tried suppressing a yawn, but failed. It brought a small smile to Martin's face.

"I'll leave you to rest."

"Mmm."

Martin pushed up from his seat, turning to leave when Akarim grabbed his hand again.

"Yes?"

"Thank you." He brought Martin's hand to his lips. "Healers hands."

Martin moved his hand to stoke Akarim's cheek.

"Rest. You need it."

"...Okay."

He lingered for a moment longer, before he pulled his hand away, moving out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh. Akarim's got a secret he's keeping from Martin.  
> Thanks for reading.


	16. Bad Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baurus was staring at a spot on the floor, clenching his fists. He glanced over at Martin.
> 
> "Do you need me to follow?" He asked rather stiffly.
> 
> "You could stand watch outside the door."
> 
> Akarim peeked over Martin's shoulder, smile growing on his face. 
> 
> "Or he could join in on the action."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eugh this was a pain to write, but I did it.  
> Just a filler chapter here to develop something between Akarim, Martin and Baurus.  
> This chapter has been unbeta'd, so apologies for any mistakes n shiz.  
> Enjoy :)

Akarim sat at a table eating his breakfast. Though it was a simple dish of bread and milk, it filled the hole in his stomach. It was quite early in the morning, just after dawn. There were a couple of the Blades who were up already. The ones who were still asleep were the ones who had taken the night shift.

It had been five days since he'd returned from the Mythic Dawn. Martin had kept him indoors to allow his back to heal. Although Akarim would have rather had the freedom to be out and about, it wasn't that much of a problem. He got to catch up with Baurus, and had become acquainted with almost all the other Blades. It had become almost routine for him to end up sharing stories across the dinner table with others gathered around him.

It felt... nice? It was something to look forward to at the end of the day. It was a good feeling making others laugh and to laugh along with them.

He could get used to it.

"I see you're up bright and early."

"I'm up early. The brightness hasn't kicked in yet."

Baurus sat down next to him, reaching over to grab some bread of his own.

"Know that feeling." He took a bite. "How's your back going?"

Akarim shifted slightly, feeling the snug fit of the bandage around his torso.

"Well, it's better."

"I suppose you're up and about, so you must be doing alright."

"Martin wants to check on it later on today to make sure it's not getting infected."

"Is that the only you've got planned today?"

"Pretty much. Can't really do anything for at least a week. Well, anything that will reopen the wound, if it hasn't healed as well as Martin wanted."

"Ah."

"It's been five days already, so I'm hoping I'll be out and about again by Morndas."

"Where will you be going?"

Akarim shrugged.

"I don't know. Jauffre wants me to do something but he's going to tell me once I'm fit to at least hold myself in battle."

"Pfft." Baurus snorted. "What battle have you been in? I thought you were more of the sneaky-staying-out-of-everyone's-way type when it came to a battle."

"Just because I'd rather be the sneaky-staying-out-of-everyone's-way type, doesn't always mean I'll always have that option."

"Okay. You have a point there, but aren't you an archer?"

"Yes, but I am capable of wielding a blade, just not as well as a bow."

"Maybe I can teach you some moves later."

"I'll take you up on that offer."

"I'm sure there will be other who wouldn't mind sparring with you."

"Great. I'll have my ass kicked by everyone."

Baurus shrugged.

"We could always have an archery contest later or something to balance it out."

"Maybe." Akarim stood up from the table, patting Baurus on the shoulder. "I'm going to pop in and say hi to Martin."

"He's been investing all of his time into that book."

"Well, it is our only chance of getting the Amulet back."

"I know, I know. I'll be in once I finish breakfast."

Akarim waved over his shoulder as he moved into the main hall. It was, by far, the warmest room in Cloud Ruler Temple due to the constant fire at the end of the hall.

Martin was on the opposite side to Akarim, nose buried deep into a book. Other books of various sizes covered the table top in front of Martin. There were also many notes that had been scribbled on scattered around the table. Standing guard behind him was a Blade. Akarim couldn't remember her name, but she had joined him for dinner a couple of nights ago. 

Akarim plopped down onto the bench across from Martin, yawning loudly to announce his presence.

"Did you rest well?" Martin didn't look up from his book.

"Could have been better, could have been worse. Yourself?"

"I slept for a couple of hours. I was up before dawn, though." He tapped the Mysterium Xarxes in front of him. "I'm close to figuring this out. The writing is-"

"Daedric?"

"Yes. But it's written in a way that is not left to right. It's unreadable at the time being, but I'm getting there."

"How long do you think it will take you to figure it out?"

"We know, so far, that we have to relight the Dragonfires to stop the Oblivion invasion. While the Dragonfires burned, the divine barriers kept the daedra from making more than fleeting visits to our world. But the Dragonfires can be relit by an heir of the Septim blood weilding the Amulet of Kings."

"This is where you come in, I gather?"

"Being the only surviving member of the Septim bloodline, it's up to me to relight the fires."

"But we need the Amulet of Kings for that."

"This was the essence of Mankar Camoran's plot. He was undone only by the merest chance, but his complete victory remains perilously close."

"So, get the Amulet, relight the fires, and stop the Oblivion invasion from happening?"

"Precisely."

"Sounds so much easier than it will be."

"That it does." Martin reached over, writing down a couple of symbols with their translations underneath on a piece of paper. He opened another book, searching for a page before popping the paper in between the two. "How's your back?"

Akarim put his elbows up on the table, leaning over.

"Better, all thanks to you."

"Doesn't hurt? Itch?"

"The bandage is uncomfortable at times, but nothing unbearable."

"I need to change the dressings today, and check to see how it's healing."

"I know. you mentioned it once or twice yesterday."

Martin huffed in frustration, putting the book down as he leant back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

"This book is doing my head in."

"Then take a break?"

"But I'm so close to translating it."

"Maybe a break will give your brain enough time to sort things out. Eat something. Take a nap. Go for a walk. Get a dog, unless you're a cat person, then maybe get a cat."

"I'm not overly fond of pets."

"Make an official law. Go for a holiday to High Rock. I hear it's good to go around this time-"

"Akarim, this isn't helping."

"It made you stop what you were doing, though."

"I can kick him out if you want me to, Sire." Baurus had taken over the other guard's shift, hovering behind Martin near the door. "You do have the power to do that."

Martin looked over at Baurus. 

"Ah, that won't be necessary."

"That's a shame." Akarim had leaned further forward on the table, batting his eyelashes at Baurus. "It's always been a fantasy of mine to be manhandled out of a room for being naughty."

A hint of a smile played at Martin's lips as Baurus spluttered in exasperation.

"That's not- I meant- He-"

"Have I been a bad boy, Baurus?"

Baurus closed his mouth, pointing at Akarim.

"You-"

Martin sighed.

"Akarim, I think that's enough."

Akarim held up his hands as he sat back.

"Alright alright. I'll stop."

"I think," Martin started, "a break would be for the best." He stood up from the table, looking over at Akarim. "I'll take a look at your back."

"Sounds good to me."

Baurus was staring at a spot on the floor, clenching his fists. He glanced over at Martin.

"Do you need me to follow?" He asked rather stiffly.

"You could stand watch outside the door."

Akarim peeked over Martin's shoulder, smile growing on his face. 

"Or he could join in on the action."

Baurus threw his hands up in the air.

"Unbelieveable!"

Martin turned around to usher Akarim out of the hall, putting himself in between him and Baurus

"Come. Leave him." He dropped his voice so only Akarim could hear. "Though I think he secretly likes you teasing him."

Akarim laughed, but shook his head.

"No, no. He definitely does not swing for men. I know that much."

"So I take that as you have tried to...?"

Akarim laughed again.

"It just takes one to know one, and he is not. Definitely not."

"Ah."

"And, to be honest, he's not really my type.Not at the moment."

"I suppose your type at the moment is the one who left that bruise on your neck?"

Akarim covered the side of his neck with his hand as a slight blush spread across his cheeks.

"I... Ah. It's not- I mean we're-"

"Apologies. It was rude of me to pry."

"No, no. It's fine. It just... caught me off guard. Armand and I we're just friends. With benefits. We tried the whole relationship thing a while back, but we both agreed that what we felt was entirely platonic."

"So, platonic sex, then?"

Akarim was surprised by the interest Martin had taken to his physical love life.

"Pretty much. And we've both had our fair share of our own bedfellows besides the two of us." Akarim paused. "Wow. That sounds like I sleep around a lot." He shrugged. "Which I do, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I like sex."

"Do you ever develop romantic feelings for anyone?"

"I... Good question. I did, once."

"...and?"

"It's never happened again."

Martin remained quiet as they moved up the stairs to the room adjacent to Martin's. Since Akarim had returned wounded, it had been turned into somewhat of a medical bay with various potions and bandages strewn across tables.

Akarim gestured to the table placed in the middle of the room.

"Do you want me to lie down?"

"Not right now, but I do need you to take off your shirt."

Akarim smirked.

"Cut the chase and straight to the point? I prefer a bit of foreplay before the main event."

Martin folded his arms across his chest.

"Akarim."

Akarim held up his hands.

"Alright. I'm sorry." He turned around taking off his shirt. "How is it?"

"It's currently covered by a bandage."

Oh. Right.

"Right."

"I need you to sit on the table for me to take it off."

Akarim moved over, jumping up on the table. His legs dangled above the ground, and he started to swing them back and forth. Martin stood in front of him, stopping his movements. Akarim pouted.

"Ruining my fun." 

Martin sighed.

"Arms up."

Akarim straightened his back, lifting his arms out to his sides. He noted a slight stiffness in his back as he moved. Martin had grabbed the edge of the bandage, tugging on it slightly to loosen it, before unravelling it from Akarim's body.

"Do you like it here?"

"Pardon?"

"Cloud Ruler Temple. Do you like staying here?"

"I suppose I don't really have a choice in where I stay at the time being."

"Well, no, but that's not answering my question."

Martin still his hands for a moment, taking a breath before continuing.

"It's not terrible. Definitely more luxurious than where I lived previously, but everything is just so... alien? It's where I live now, but it doesn't feel like a place that I could call home. Not yet, anyway." He stepped back, tying the loose end of the bandage around the roll to stop it from unravelling. "Stand up."

Akarim hopped down from the table, turning around.

"I don't have a home."

"No?"

"Technically Valenwood is my birth place, but I wouldn't call it 'home'." He felt Martin peel the gauze off his wound. "How is it?"

"It's... healed."

"What?"

"Well, it's closed up. I can see where it was open previously, and it's still red, but there is no open wound."

"Is that good?"

"It's... yes. It's a good thing, but how did you heal so quickly?"

Akarim frowned.

"I was taking healing potions every night before bed, and you did use magicks to heal me initially."

Martin stood back from Akarim, allowing him to turn around.

"You... you said you had Ayleid blood in you, yes?"

"Yeah, but traced back a very, very long time ago."

Martin narrowed his eyes.

"And you've never shown signs of using magika?"

"No. I haven't."

"Have you ever tried?"

"I'd rather stick to my bows and arrows."

Martin stared at him for a moment longer. Akarim could feel himself leaning further back onto the table behind him.

"Hmm. Alright."

Martin turned, heading towards the door.

"You might want to check in with Jauffre." He hesitated at the door. "He was concerned about rumors of spies in Bruma." He looked back at Akarim. "If it's not too much to ask, don't come back in a critical condition again."

Akarim bowed.

"Of course, Sire."

Martin rolled his eyes, waving his hand.

"I'll be back in the main hall if you need me."

"And I'll be with Jauffre if you need me."

Martin gave him a thumbs up, moving around the corner and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment/leave kudos/bookmark if you feel the urge. It's was gives me motivation to actually post this online then just leaving it on my laptop.  
> Art of Akarim: http://martiniseptimus.tumblr.com/tagged/akarim  
> Akarim's tattoo: http://martiniseptimus.tumblr.com/image/141147172192


	17. Spies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His ears picked up the sound of armour conjuring in the distance. He took it as the other agent wasn't sure of her attacker's whereabouts.
> 
> Unless she ran off.
> 
> Which would be... not good. Not good at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: panic attacks and violence  
> This chapter was a pain to write. I dont know why. it just was  
> hope you enjoy :)

Akarim found Jauffre the courtyard with Baragon. The air was chilly and his breaths visible in the morning light. He was glad that he wrapped a warmer coat around himself before leaving the warmth of the Great Hall. His arms were crossed over his chest, trying to hold in as much warmth as he could as he approached the two.

"... There hasn't been much activity for the past two days, but that's just not what we've seen. We've had more reports closer to Bruma."

"That's still very close to here."

"It is, sir, but they are not aggressive as of yet," Baragon caught sight of Akarim's approach, nodding in acknowledgment to his presence. "I should be getting back to my post, sir."

"Yes. Of course. Thank you on the update."

Baragon bowed to Jauffre and gave Akarim a wave as he moved back up to his post.

"You wanted to see me?"

Jauffre turned towards Akarim.

"Oh, Akarim. How do you fare?"

Akarim gestured to himself.

"I'm fit to be out and about, according to Martin."

"Already?"

He shrugged.

"Apparently. I heard something about spies."

"Ah, yes. I hope you can help. The gate guards have reported seeing strangers on the road for the last several nights. I cannot leave Cloud Ruler undefended while my men search the whole mountainside, but these spies must be eliminated."

"So, you want me to do it?"

Jauffre nodded.

"Yes."

"Is that it?"

Jauffre nodded again.

"Yes."

"... Alright."

"Talk to Steffan. He can tell you where he's seen them. Captain Burd in Bruma may also be able to help. I've asked the Countess to have the guard keep an eye out for strangers. Track down the spies and kill them. Find out what they know, and what they're planning, if possible."

"Shall do."

"I'm counting on you to eliminate those spies. We can't afford to let the Mythic Dawn operate out of Bruma with impunity."

"You have put a lot of pressure on someone who has been injured for the past week."

Jauffre stared moving back towards the Temple.

"If you weren't fit for the job, Uri-Martin wouldn't have sent you to me. Steffan is in the east wing."

Akarim watched Jauffre move inside before he moved himself to the east wing. Steffan was sat cleaning his helmet.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"I just spoke with Jauffre. He told me you could tell me about the spies?"

He put down his helmet.

"We always see them near the runestone at dusk. They aren't too woodcrafty, but the Grandmaster Jauffre has forbidden us to range too far from the walls. But it seems you have been given the freedom to attack the enemy that we all crave!" He went to put his hand on Akarim's shoulder, but decided against it as his hands were covered in filth from his armour. "Good luck," He said instead, "We will keep the Emperor safe here, don't worry."

"Thanks." Akarim turned away for a moment, pausing. "Would you, by any chance, have a bow and a quiver of arrows lying about that I could use, would you?"

 

* * *

 

He stretched out his legs as he sat down behind the rock his was hiding behind. He had been stationed there for the past 15 minutes or so waiting for any movement around the runestone just down the hill from Cloud Ruler Temple. The sun had set, slowly darkening Cyrodiil as stars had become visible in the sky.

He peered over the rock again, his bow at the ready. It felt good to have a bow in his hand and a quiver of arrows over his shoulder once again. Though he would have felt better with his leather armour protecting his body, the spare mithril cuirass he wore was good enough for the time being, and would probably protect him from another wound up his back.

He held his breath as he heard the crunch of the snow as someone appeared out from the trees, only to be joined by another from the opposite direction. Akarim drew his bow aiming it down at the approachers to the runestone. He held his breath, holding his position...

...But what if these two were just a passing couple marvelling at the runestone? Did he want to be responsible for the deaths of could-be-innocent people? What if Steffan had it all wrong-

"-I have gathered information and have passed it on to a messenger. They're well fortified, it would be hard for us to strike at anytime, and it doesn't seem that many people come in or out. If we attack them one by one, we may have a better chance of clearing them out."

...Well, that answered that question.

He let the arrow fly, piercing the speaker's arm.

"Jearl!"

The other agent cried out as she staggering back in pain. She grasped the arrow to pull it out just as a second arrow finished the job soon after. Akarim scanned the area, fingers twitching. He cursed under his breath, ducking down behind the rock again. He had lost sight of the other agent. He strung another arrow, slowly moving out from behind the rock. His ears picked up the sound of armour conjuring in the distance. He took it as the other agent wasn't sure of her attacker's whereabouts.

Unless she ran off.

Which would be... not good. Not good at all.

Akarim walked (slid) cautiously down the snowy hill side, his bow at the ready. He weaved in and out of the trees surrounding the runestone, distancing himself from the body. He remained stationary behind a tree. One minute passed, which then turned into three, then five.

Nothing.

He stepped out from behind the tree, approaching the body. His face screwed up in disdain as he looked upon the fallen. Red had spread across the snow beneath the body. He knelt down, going through pockets. Maybe there was something to do with her purpose here-

"For Lord Dagon!"

"Fuck."

He rolled out of the way, just avoiding a mace through his skull. He whipped his bow around, only for it to come in contact with conjured armour.

Great.

He needed to put distance between them if he was to inflict damage with his bow.

Unless...

He ducked out of the way of another swing of the mace, racing over to the runestone instead. he threw his bow somewhere to the right of him, opposite side to the one that the agent was attacking from. He reached out, placing his palm against the runes on its surface, feeling it stir beneath his hand. A rippling sensation ran through his body from his hand to his head. He closed his eyes as a helmet conjured around his head, and a dagger conjured in his hand.

It was better than nothing.

He turned, moving out of the way of another swing. He lunged forward, the adrenaline pumping through him as he tackled the agent to the ground. They both grappled on the ground, trying to get the upper hand. Akarim had managed to hold the hand wielding the mace down, but that didn't stop the agent from trying to punch him in the face with the other hand. He rolled them over, kneeing her in the stomach. It hurt, as he didn't have any armour on his lower half, but it seemed to have done the trick. She struggled to breathe, her movement stuttering for a moment, but a moment was good enough. Akarim raised his blade, burying it in between the plates of the armour on her torso, and twisting it as hard as he could. He felt a series of crunches as the blood roared in his ears. She froze, breath stilling, before rolling off of Akarim.

He breathed once. Then twice, before scrambling away from her. His breathing was laboured, and the helmet wasn't helping in anyway. He grabbed the sides of the helmet, hoping to rip it off.

It didn't budge.

He felt the rising panic in his chest. His heart rate increased as his breathing did. His movement became more frantic as he tried pulling the helmet off again. His hands began to shake as he pawed where the helmet became skin. The sensation made him sick to the stomach. He needed out. He was trapped. His fingers pushed at the bottom of the helmet-

-and it disintergrated into a dust.

Right. Daedric. It would only be physical for a short period of time.

He took deep breaths of air, his hands running through his hair as he curled up against a rock behind him. Deep breath in one, two, three. Hold, one, two, three. Release, one, two, three. Repeat. His shaking gradually stopped, and his heart no longer felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

He put his head back, breathing in the cold mountain air. It sharpened his senses, bringing him back to the present.

He gave himself another minute, before pushing himself up from the ground. He swayed for a moment, before collecting himself. He moved over to his bow, slinging it around him before he moved back over to Jearl. He assumed that was what her name was, seeing as though the other agent called that out as she fell. He went through her pockets again, producing two different keys. He placed them in a small satchel he had around his waist. He took a breath, looking over at Bruma. Time to have a chat with the Captain of the Guard.

 

* * *

 

"You're Burd, right?"

Akarim was standing in front of a tall Nord. Not that Akarim really noticed his height. Maybe he was considered tall, even for Nords. Akarim couldn't really tell. Everyone was taller than Akarim.

"That's me. Captain Burd, commander of the Bruma Guard."

"I was sent down here to ask about the spies around Bruma? Have you come across anything in the past couple of days or so?"

Burd shook his head.

"Except for Jearl coming back from a trip down south, things are pretty quiet. Not much travel right now with the Oblivion Crisis. I've told my men to keep a sharp eye out, but I've had no reports of any strangers in town. What about you? Turned up anything suspicious?"

"Well, Jearl was a Mythic Dawn agent."

"Gods blood!" Akarim jumped slightly at Burd's booming voice. "So she was the spy? It seems there's no one you can trust these days." He looked off into the distance, nodding to himself. "Since you're working with Cloud Ruler Temple," He turned back to Akarim, "I'm going to authorise you to search Jearl's house. I'll pass the word to my men. We won't interfere."

Akarim nodded.  
  
"Will do."

"I trust that you'll handle things... appropriately. The less I know about it, the better."

Akarim assumed Burd was trying to wink at him by the 'kind of' twitching of his right eye.

"Okay. I will."

"Take care."

 

* * *

 

He turned the key, stepping cautiously inside the house. He stopped, waiting for any movement from inside the house.

There was none.

He closed the door behind himself, taking in the house with his hands on his hips.

The room was... quite bare for someone to be living in. It had a bed, and the fire was still burning, but it seemed to lack somewhat of a 'presence' that would have made it feel more like a home.

Akarim frowned, looking down at the floor.

Where in Oblivion did Jearl get a watermelon from?

Especially in Bruma, where it was very unlikely to grow a watermelon that big.

He stood over it. It's size probably meant that it would be very heavy to carry.

... Not that he was thinking of taking it, or anything. Even though it would sell for a hefty price up in the mountains...

Right.

Mythic Dawn.

That's why he was here.

The rug on the floor caught his eye. It seemed to be placed conveniently over a trap door. It seemed like the kind of thing someone where to do if they didn't want anyone to see what lay below. Someone like Akarim, who shifted the rug to open it.

He dropped down, noting that the lighting was much better than the room upstairs, though this one was significantly smaller.

The Commentaries... The Mythic Camoran things... The books that the Mythic Dawn Leader wrote were placed on top of a cupboard and on a table at the opposite end of the room. Akarim approached the table, picking up a note left on top.

He skimmed through it, agreeing with himself that he should definitely bring it to Jauffre. It seemed to be battle plans, signed by Ruma Camoran. He placed it in the satchel around his waist, turning to-

There was another door behind him. He took a moment, before shrugging. He was a curious sort. What possibly could go wrong going through this door that he had no idea what lay behind?

...

Nothing, apparently.

The door just led to a cave system to outside Bruma. Probably was used by Jearl to get to that runestone easier.

Well, that just saved Akarim a journey back through to Bruma.

 

* * *

 

"Jauffre."

Jauffre looked up from where he was seated.

"You've returned. What have you learned about the spies?"

Akarim held out the orders in response. Jauffre took it from his hand, reading through it.

"Excellent work." Jauffre nodded. "I knew I could count on you. The gods did not choose you as their agent, whatever you may think. But it is clear that Mankar Camoran will soon bring all his power to bear against Bruma. I will warn the Countess of the danger. You should speak to Martin. I believe he has made some progress with the Mysterium Xarxes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jearl's Orders: http://www.imperial-library.info/content/jearls-orders  
> oh yeah  
> Oblivion turned 10 on the 20th of March, so, Happy 10th Birthday, Oblivion!


	18. Azura's Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And if I do find you... appealing?"
> 
> Akarim leant forward, dropping his voice as a smile spread across his lips.
> 
> "Then I'm one step closer to getting what I want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. this took longer than expected. but here it is.  
> unbeta'd

Akarim had sat himself across the table from Martin. The warmth of the Great Hall was, again, welcoming and chased away the chill that had settled in Akarim's bones. He noted that Baurus was speaking to someone else by the door. Caroline, it looked like. They didn't seem to be ending their conversation any time soon. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand before leaning on his hand as he listened to Martin talk.  
"I've deciphered part of the ritual needed to open a portal to Camoran's Paradise."

"Well, that's good news."

Martin continued.

"The Xarxes mentions four items needed for the ritual, but so far I have only deciphered one of them: the 'blood of a Daedra Lord'."

Akarim huffed.

"That doesn't sound too difficult."

"Daedric artifacts are known to be formed from the essence of a Daedric Lord, from whence they derive their great power. Not an easy thing to come by, obviously, but we will need a daedric artifact. Bring it to me when you have acquired one."

"Alright." Akarim held up a finger. "Just a question. Where am I going to find one?"

"The only way to obtain a daedric artifact is through the cults devoted to each of the daedric lords."

Akarim rolled his eyes.

"Because I'm already part of a Daedric cult."

Martin sighed, pushing a book across the table.

"Here. 'Modern Heretics' is the best introduction to daedric cults."

Akarim picked up the close-to-3-inch-thick book, feeling the weight of it in his hands.

"Just a bit of light reading, I gather?"

"I could always have someone read it out for you, if you do have problems reading. It's not uncommon for someone to be illiterate."

"Excuse me. I can read just fine, thank you." He opened the first page with a flick of his wrist, eying Martin as he did so and cleared his throat to accentuate the fact that we was going to read out loud. "'Daedric worship is not prohibited by law in Cyrodiil.' Well, obviously, though I don't think that a law would stop them. 'Primarily this is a result of the Imperial Charter granted by the Mages Guild permitting the summoning of Daedra.' Makes sense. 'Nonetheless, chapel and public opinion is so strongly against Daedra worship that those who practice Daedric rituals do so in secret.'" Akarim frowned. "How did the Mythic Dawn come to be so large then?"

"One voice is all it takes."

"Okay, but I talk a lot and I don't see myself leading a cult to end the world."

"To be successful in leading a cult you need to... appeal to others easily."

Akarim narrowed his eyes.

"Are you implying that I am not appealing to others?"

Martin leant forward as he tilted his head.

"And if I was?"

Akarim challenged the stare for a moment, before shrugging.

"Who am I to argue with the word of the Emperor? I am but his humble servant here to abide his every wish."

Martin's eye twitched.

Akarim raised an eyebrow. Gotcha.

"Is it not in your manner to argue your point? Even to someone of a higher status than yourself?"

Well played, Martin.

"That may be true." He sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. "Am I appealing to you?"

Martin set his jaw, glancing over at Baurus out of the corner of his eye.

"And if I do find you... appealing?"

Akarim leant forward, dropping his voice as a smile spread across his lips.

"Then I'm one step closer to getting what I want."

Checkmate.

Martin put down the Mysterium Xarxes, folding his hands into his lap as he cleared his throat.

"Do, pray tell, what it is exactly that you want?"

"You're smart, Martin. I'm sure you've figured it out already. And if, by any chance, I have read you wrong, I'm not going to make any advances. Not until you do." He stood up from the table, picking up 'Modern Heretics' and tucking it under his arm. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some 'light reading' to do."

"Akarim-"

He paused, turning to face Martin.

"Yes?"

Martin was shuffling through some papers across the desk, avoiding Akarim's eye as he spoke.

"Remember, the Mysterium Xarxes ritual will consume the physical form of the artifact in order to release its daedric power."

Akarim turned towards the library trying to hide his smile. He had definitely noticed the fact that Martin was trying, and failing, to conceal his growing boner. Score one to Akarim.

* * *

 

Azura's shrine was a beautiful as he had imagined it. The statue of Azura was depicted holding a star in one hand and a crescent moon in the other. It was a reference to dusk and dawn, which were the times that Akarim had to give an offering for Azura to speak to him. Reading through 'Modern Heretics' and speaking to those at the shine, he was told to give and offering of glow dust from a Will-o-the-wisp.

A couple were dancing around each other in the twilight, weaving in and out of the trees and coming back into the light. They were free spirits, golden against the fading light. They made soft purring sounds as the snow began to fall around them. Akarim drew his arrow, aiming it towards one. He felt guilty as he let it fly, watching as the gold faded and crumbled on the ground. The other retreated back into the trees, startled from the attack.

Akarim jumped down, moving towards the remains of the Will-o-the-wisp, scooping it up gently in his hands as he moved back up to the Shrine. It was like a dust, still glowing faintly and he swore he could still hear the slight hum. Or maybe it was the other one coming back to attack him. He looked over his shoulder before jogging up the hill. Better to be safe than sorry.

Placing the dust into a bowl on the Shrine, a tingle went up Akarim's spine. He was held in place, his breath shallow as a voice spoke to him.

"I have seen your name, Traveler, and heard it whispered in the twilight." Akarim didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "I ask a service, which holds a promise of fame and reward." ... The speaker had Akarim's utmost attention now. "Many years ago, five followers slew the vampire Dratik and its kin, but all were infected by the foul creature. Knowing their fate, they sealed themselves up in the vampire's lair. Their suffering weighs heavily on me. Travel on me. Travel to the Gutted Mine. The door will be open to you. Bring the peace of death to my followers, and you shall earn my gratitude."

He was released as the voice faded, taking a deep breath in. All he had to do was kill a couple vampires? Pfft. Easy.

* * *

 

Cradling his arm against his chest, and limping just slightly, he pushed through the doors to the main hall, again.

"I have returned," He announced his presence rather loud, startling the Blade at the door. Actually, everyone seemed surprised by his presence, including Martin, though he felt more satisfied watching Baurus jump out of his skin. "with a Daedric artifact."

The surprise across Martin's face turned into one of concern as he pushed himself up from the table.

"You're bleeding-"

Akarim waved his hand at him.

"That's nothing new. Most of it isn't even mine. Though, I need a cure disease potion soon because I think I'd rather not turn into a vampire any time soon. I got bit, a couple of times." He pointed to his neck, arm and leg, which had bite wounds that were still bleeding. "In theory, five people at once sounds like a very nice night out, though in practice, five vampires at once is just a tad excessive. Oh here." He pulled out Azura's Star, moving over to hand it to Martin. "There you go. One fresh Daedric artifact made to order."

Martin took Azura's Star, putting it back on the table, forgetting about it as he moved over to Akarim.

"What happened?"

"I just fought some vampires. I'm fine other wise."

Martin shook his head.

"No. You are wounded. Something is wrong."

He leant heavily against the table, facade dropping slightly as he spoke.

"Martin. I'm..." Akarim took a shaky breath in. "I can't get my heart rate down and I'm lightheaded and I feel like I'm going to throw up." He could feel his heart rate increasing. "I can't-" He couldn't focus. He needed to breathe. He couldn't breathe. Not enough oxygen. He wasn't holding on. He reached out for something, for anything. He needed something to keep him grounded-

"Akarim. What do you hear?"

Martin's voice was calm. The total opposite of how Akarim was feeling. He reached out, and Martin's hand grasped his.

"I can't-"

"What do you hear?"

Akarim squeezed his eyes shut, listening.

"I-fire. Crackling. You Breathing."

"What do you feel?

"I hurt. My wounds."

"What do you feel beneath your hands?"

He squeezed. "Skin. A hand."

"What do you see?"

He blinked open his eyes.

"Orange light. Wood. Grey robes." His eyes found Martin's. "Blue."

"Can you walk?"

Akarim nodded, standing in a slight daze. He felt lightheaded, but his heart rate had decreased, and his breathing was somewhat under control. Martin was leading Akarim by his hand. It wasn't until he told Akarim to sit op on the bench that he realised they were in the 'unofficial' medical bay. He was helped up onto the medical table and a potion bottle was place his hand. He put it to his lips, drinking it down quickly. Most potions didn't taste very nice, and it was no different for this one. Martin had started cleaning his wounds on his legs. Akarim frowned. When did he lose his greaves? He was sure he returned with them. His hand brushed something on the table next to him. There they were. He returned to watching Martin as he worked.

"I'm sorry."

Martin looked up.

"What for?"

"I didn't mean to lose it in front of you. I thought I could get it together and I've pulled you away from your work again because I got myself wounded and I've come back and my anxiety was flaring up again and I'm-"

"Akarim." Martin took his hand in his. "It's not your fault. You don't have to be sorry."

Akarim sighed, nodding.

"Okay."

Martin returned to Akarim's leg, dressing it, before moving onto his arm. It was probably the deepest wound of the three, and it definitely looked like someone had bitten a chunk out of Akarim. As the first, it was cleaned and dressed, then Martin turned to the one on Akarim's neck.

"That one is... not as bad as the others."

Akarim had tilted his head to the side, glancing at Martin out of the corner of his eye.

"But it's still bad?"

Martin wiped it gently, apologising when Akarim's face twisted in pain.

"I just don't know how deep it is. I don't know if you're bleeding internally."

"Can't you just heal it? With magic?"

"Well, yes."

"Just do it."

"I still need to clean it. I don't want it to trap any infections, if there are any."

"...Will I turn into a vampire?"

Martin shook his head.

"That potion I gave you earlier was a cure disease." He rinsed out the cloth in his hands before returning it to Akarim's neck. "It should kick in soon."

"That's probably why everything still hurts." He felt the magicka emitting from Martin's hands. A warmth was spreading through the area where the wound on his neck was. "Healing feels nice, though."

"Seeing as though it only took a couple of days for your wounds to heal last time, I'm not grounding you this time around."

"Oh, well, that's good. I don't think I could sit around for five days doing nothing again. Not used to just... staying put."

Martin pulled away, putting down the cloth and picking up a gauze to place over the wound.

"Would you ever settle down? If given the chance?"

"To be quite honest, no. I don't think I would. Tamriel is just so... I can't find the word. There's just so much and it's so different and there still parts I haven't been to and just the thought of just sticking to one place just makes me feel... wrong."

He straightened his neck as Martin stepped back reaching up to touch his neck.

"Don't touch."

Akarim dropped his hand.

"Okay."

"How do you feel?"

"Well, my wounds are definitely healing."

"Mentally, I mean. Are you okay?"

Akarim sighed, dropping his eyes.

"It... takes a lot out of me, when it happens. I'm just tired, more than anything." Martin's hand found his again and he smiled. "I've had this problem anxiety for a very long time. Usually I know what to do to stop it from turning into, well, what happened earlier." He looked back up to Martin. "Thanks. For grounding me."

"My pleasure."

Martin stepped closer, his other hand reaching cupping the side of Akarim's face. Akarim tilted his head back, feeling Martin's breath ghosting across his lips, waiting. As much as he wanted to just close the gap between them, he wasn't going to. No. Martin had to make this move.

"You're keeping to your word?"

"I swear to Akatosh, Martin, if you do not kiss me right now, I am going to set you on fire."

Martin chuckled, closing the distance. His thumb brushed over Akarim's cheek as they kissed. It felt... comfortable. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough. Akarim was the one to pull away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned.

"I should leave you to rest-"

Akarim pulled Martin back, firmly planting his lips against Martin's once, then again. His hand found Martin's waist, pulling him between his legs. He parted his lips, coaxing Martin to do the same. An arm circled around his waist, pulling him closer. He wanted more. So much more, but he found himself pulling back. A breathy laugh left him as he ducked his head down, pressing his forehead against Martin's chest.

"As much as I'd like you to strip me bare and take me on this table, I am keeping you from your work."

"As I said earlier, you are not-"

Akarim pecked him on the lips.

"I have kept you long enough. I'm also too tired to do any extraneous activities."

"I understand." He pulled away from Akarim's embrace. "There are healing potions on the table. Take one before you fall asleep."

"Will do."

Martin hesitated, moving back to kiss Akarim again.

"Alright. Sleep well."

"And you work hard."

Martin rolled his eyes, moving out and sliding the door closed behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> i have waited just as long as you.
> 
> Art by AngelTheMerman  
> Their[tumblr](http://homeofthebuttwings.tumblr.com/) and [deviantart](http://angelmermaid.deviantart.com/)


	19. Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want to see Jauffre. All he does is send me off somewhere else."
> 
> "It would be because you're the Hero of Kvatch, sir. You know more than all of us Blades with the Crisis at hand."
> 
> Akarim pouted.
> 
> "But it's cold out there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was hoping to have this finished by the 5th but that didnt end up happening. Also, this fic is officially 2 years old. hooray  
> Anyway, enjoy.

Waking up the next morning was a bit of a struggle for Akarim. His body ached, especially where the bite wounds were. He knew they were mostly healed, hats off to the potion he drank before sleeping, but he knew that they would scar. Especially with how deep they were. They probably had nasty bruising around them as well. That would explain why they hurt so much. He groaned slightly as he pushed himself up, a couple of his joints popping at the movement. He felt like the morning after a great night out with some mercenary Nord twins who became just a tad too frustrated with his antics and decided enough was enough. Akarim was glad he was the one they took their frustration out on. Akarim wasn't wrong when he told Baurus that the liked being manhandled out of a room.

He rolled his head, working the kinks out of it. He stopped, a smile spreading across his face. His fingers traced over his lips in memory of the previous night... day... what ever time Akarim decided to stumble back to Cloud Ruler Temple. He was yet another step closer to getting what he wanted. Sure, it could have happened after the kiss, if he hadn't been so tired. He cursed at himself. Damn this tiredness. He sighed, spotting a cup of water on the bench. He reached out towards the cup, realising just how parched he felt. He picked it up, downing the cup in three gulps. Much better. His mind wandered back to Martin, and the fact that he was interested-

Wait.

Brother Martin.

Priest of Akatosh.

Martin was a priest.

... Weren't priests supposed to, uh, not make the love? Or make any advances? Weren't they supposed to devote themselves to the Divines and that was all?

Or, was it the fact that Martin was technically considered the Emperor now and was no longer considered a priest?

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

None of this trail of thought actually mattered. What did matter was that Akarim could finally get into Martin's pants. His train of thought lead to what Martin was like in bed. Was his manner like he presented himself in public? Was he humble in the bedroom? Maybe he would enjoy-

-someone knocked at the door.

"Yeah?" He called out, voice slightly croaky.

"Sir? Mind if I come in?"

Akarim frowned.

"Caroline?"

"Yes Sir."

He pulled the thin blanket further up around his waist as he cleared his throat.

"You can come in."

The door opened and Caroline stepped inside carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming soup. Caroline noted Akarim's confusion.

"It was Sire... Martin's wish for me to come up to check on you. He sends his regards as he is caught up with his work." She put the tray down on the table closest to Akarim. "He also wanted you to know that Grandmaster Jauffre is in need of your services once again."

Akarim slumped back, groaning.

"I don't want to see Jauffre. All he does is send me off somewhere else."

"It would be because you're the Hero of Kvatch, sir. You know more than all of us Blades with the Crisis at hand."

Akarim pouted.

"But it's cold out there."

"We're well into Hearthfire. No doubt it's going to get colder."

"Noooooooooooo..." Akarim whined, pulling the blanket up around his chin. "Tell Jauffre I have caught a cold and and am unfit for... for what ever he wants me for, until it the snow melts on these mountains."

Caroline opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again.

"Sir... The snow will never melt here. It's always snowed on these mountains."

"Yes." Akarim deadpanned. "I am aware of that. I am being stubborn." He threw the blanket away with a flick of his wrist, swinging his legs off the side of the bench to stand up. He looked back up at Caroline... Who looked down at his crotch, then away, the back at Akarim's face. To which Akarim then looked down at his crotch, then back up at Caroline, then quickly reached back for the blanket to cover himself. "I-I am so sorry..."

Caroline swallowed, her lips twitching as she looked away.

"It's... quite alright. I... umm..."

They made eye contact again. Akarim could feel his face pulling into a smile as a laugh bubbled up from his chest. Caroline threw her head back laughing as Akarim did, clutching her stomach as tears came to her eyes.

"Oh Talos!" she gasped between her laughs. "Your face-"

"You should have seen yours!"

She wiped away her tears, her laughs eventually coming to a stop, though her smile was still wide.

"I have missed your tales you share to us around the table. It has been awfully quiet without your voice there."

Akarim still had a large grin on his face.

"Don't worry. I'll see if I can be there sometime this week. I still have many more stories to share."

Caroline nodded, then gestured to the soup.

"Please, eat. I also must return to my post."

"Oh, yeah. Apologies for keeping you."

Caroline waved him off, moving out the door.

"No no, it's alright. Really. You can always bring a smile to my face, to anyone's face. It's who you are."

Akarim gave her a small bow.

"My pleasure."

Caroline gave him a wave as she closed the door, still with a large smile on her face. It stirred something in Akarim. It felt nice to be wanted for something other than his body. Not that he minded people wanting him just for his body, no. The change was just... refreshing. Forgetting about the crushing weight of the off hand responsibility of the fate of Nirn, this CrisisAkarim looked down at the blanket wrapped around his waist, laughing to himself as he took it off. He reached for his leather greaves, turning them over in his hands. There was some blood. Not an excessive amount, but enough that they needed a bit of a clean... If Akarim could be bothered. Which he wasn't. He slipped them on, grunting slightly as his greaves was pulled over the gauze over the wound on his leg. He adjusted them on his hips, moving his limbs to warm up. He paused, looking over at the soup on the table. Steam was rising from the bowl. Still warm. His hands curled around the sides of the bowl, trying to absorb the heat. He really should be getting to Jauffre, but his stomach grumbled in protest. He sighed. Maybe just a few mouthfuls? He put it to his lips, taking a sip. Yes. Definitely worth finishing.

* * *

"I've just received word from the Countess of Bruma that an Oblivion gate has opened outside the city."

Akarim felt his heart drop into his stomach. No. Not again. He could still feel the way the air felt against his skin, or the way it burned as he breathed it in. He could still smell the putrid air, laced with sulfur and burning flesh. He could still hear the inhuman screeches from the Daedra as they ran after him. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. He didn't want to go into Oblivion again. It was pure chance that he had gotten out alive the first time. That wasn't to say if he would survive every time.

"It seems that the Mythic Dawn are putting their plan to attack Bruma into motion." Jauffre spoke to Akarim as he flicked through the papers in his hands. "Since you've dealt with these Gates before, I'd like to help the Countess's guards close the gate. Once they've seen how it's done, they should be able to handle any new gates on their own."

Akarim unconsciously played with the edges of the gauze on his neck, breathing steady. Definitely time to get his anxiety in check.

"Where is this Gate?" He surprised himself with how steady his voice sounded.

"Captain Burd is waiting for you outside the Bruma city gate. He'll show you the Oblivion Gate. Although I doubt it will be hard to find."

"Sure thing."

"You should rendezvous with Captain Burd immediately. The sooner that gate is closed, the better."

"Yeah. I will."

He turned away, only to have a hand on his shoulder stop him.

"Will you be alright?"

Akarim sighed.

"Honestly, I have no idea."

"We have no right to ask this of you, Akarim. No one is making you do this."

"I... I know." He faced Jauffre. "I have thought about it. About just walking away without another word. It's crossed my mind so many times. But the thing is, if I do, who will do it? Who else has stepped into Oblivion and survived long enough to step out? Who else knows how to close Oblivion Gates for good? I was a part of this 'Divine plan', what ever the Gods wanted me for, even if it was that. I'm not much of a believer of any of the Divines, but it was a dying wish." Akarim shook his head. "I just couldn't. I can't walk away. The guilt would be too much."

"I understand-"

"No." Akarim shook his head again. Turning away from Jauffre. "I'm sorry, but you don't."

* * *

 

Burd clapped him on the shoulder, not really noticing Akarim's wince of pain.

"Thanks for coming. Since we had the Hero of Kvatch available, I didn't think it made sense to try this on own own the first time."

Akarim looked the gate up and down. It crackled like a fire, and emitted a high ringing noise when you stood close enough. It sent chills down his back.  
   
"Well, it's good thing that I'm an expert."

"You are!?" Burd asked in disbelief.

Akarim jumped at the outburst, but shrugged.

"I suppose?"

Burd clapped his hands together, rubbing them as he nodded.

"We're ready when you are. Just say the word and we'll follow you into that hell-spawned Gate."

Akarim nodded, facing the gate. He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. He felt sick to the stomach. Well, he had felt sick all morning so that was no surprise.

"Let's go."

"Alright. Give me a minute to talk to the men. Everyone's a bit jumpy right now."

He faced the rest of his men, putting his hands behind his back. He was right. They did seem nervous, which was acceptable. Akarim felt the same way.

"Alright, boys. Listen up. We've got to close that Gate over there. Nobody likes the idea of going into that thing, but it's our job, and we're going to do it. If we don't, Bruma ends up a smoking pile of rubble like what happened at Kvatch. And that's not going to happen here! Not while I'm Captain of the guard!" He pointed to two of his men. "Bor, Soren, you're with me. The rest of you, stay outside and kill anything that comes out of that Gate. Let's show these bastards how we do things in Bruma!"

Akarim took a breath in, gripping his bow tighter in his hand. The strap of his quiver felt tight across his chest. He released his breath, starting to run towards the Oblivion gate. Too late to turn back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't expect to get so far with this fic. It started out as a small project that I was writing for myself to sharing it online. I didn't expect for others to enjoy this fic. I didn't expect it to get this many hits, hell, I didn't expect the count to get over 100 when I started it.  
> So, thanks to my readers. You're the reason why I keep writing. Thank you.


	20. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll make sure you get out of here alive. That is a promise."
> 
> Soren swallowed, nodding in response.
> 
> "It's alright, sir. You don't need to make a promise you're not sure you will keep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck this was a bitch to write.  
> hope you enjoy

Stepping inside was just as shocking as the first time Akarim entered. The air burned as he inhaled and he found himself coughing and fighting the urge to throw up. He swallowed, straightening up. He could feel himself wanting to turn back. To run. To hide. To avoid another anxiety attack that would put another 10 years onto his life.

He turned when he heard footsteps behind him. Burd and his soldiers emerged from the gate, weapons drawn.

"This is no place I ever wanted to find myself." Burd also looked like he wanted to throw up. That made Akarim feel slightly better. Someone threw up behind Burd. Soren, it was. Poor kid. Bor looked like he was about to laugh at Soren's misfortune, before he turned away and projectile-vomited in the other direction. Akarim definitely felt better. He returned his attention to Burd, whose eyes were fixated ahead. "I don't see how we can... No... no, we can do this." He tightened his grip on his sword. "We have to do this. We have no choice. I'm glad you're here. We wouldn't have a chance otherwise. What's our next move?"

Akarim turned away as the sounds of two young guardsmen vomiting were coming to a stop. He scanned the island. It was different from the plane that he had stepped into at Kvatch. Completely different. He couldn't even see the Sigil Tower. Never mind that, there weren't any towers or buildings of the sort in sight.

Fuck.

Daedra ahead had also caught sight of the four of them and were starting to move in their direction. Akarim gripped his bow, reaching to pull an arrow from his quiver. 30.

"Kill the daedra that attack. Don't give them a chance to attack you." 29. "Almost all forms of daedra can cast spells. Steer clear." 28. 27. "I can get to an advantage point from above." He gestured to the high boulders and platforms from toppled towers surrounding them. "We need to get to the Sigil Tower." 26. "It's gotta be around here somewhere."

"And if it's not?"

25.

"Then, we're fucked. You ready?"

"You just took five of those bastards out without flinching."

Akarim shrugged.

"It's five we don't have to worry about any more."

Burd nodded.

"Lead on, Hero of Kvatch."

"Follow me."

* * *

Akarim ripped the arrow out of the body of a scamp. His face screwed up in disgust at the sound it made. He flicked the arrow. Still good to use. He put it back in his quiver, before jumping down from the platform he was on. He looked up ahead. Burd and his men were crowding a stunted scamp, which seemed to be terrified more than anything. Akarim looked away as Soren's sword went through the creature.

He sighed, moving back towards the three guards. On one hand, knowing that others had your back in situations like these was a bonus. He wasn't completely trusting of them yet, not like he was with Armand, but it was enough trust that they wouldn't stab him in the back if he wasn't looking. Akarim made that mistake long ago when faced with a hoard of goblins.

On the other hand, Akarim had to look out for them. He wasn't by himself this time. He couldn't just leave them behind and push through at his pace. He had to wait for them to finish killing or running or screaming or whatever before grouping up together. He was jealous of the fellowship amongst guards. Working as a thief was a solo job. Unless there was a job that required more than one person, which was upon occasion.

He approached the cheering guards, who were all clapping each other on the back for a job well done, which they did for every creature they killed on this gods forsaken island. Burd held his sword up, getting Akarim's attention.

"What now?"

Akarim pointed to the Sigil Tower they were underneath.

"We've got to get up to the top of this."

"Boys!" He called out to Bor and Soren. "Better start climbing!"

Bor and Soren looked at Burd, then at the tower, then at themselves, then at Akarim, then at the tower again.

"Uh, Sir? I don't..." Soren started.

"There's a door over here." Akarim pointed towards a set of stairs leading up to the tower. He would have laughed in any other circumstance, but the novelty of the comment just... didn't do it for him. "It's this way." He started walking. He wasn't frustrated, no. Well, not yet anyway. He was just... slightly annoyed. Thankful of the three guards, but annoyed with working with them.

They climbed the stairs, weapons at the ready as they pushed through the door. There were only three daedra inside the level, and each were taken out in quick succession on all four of their parts.

No one cheered. They were too busy staring at the beam of energy running through the center of the tower.

"What is it?"

"That's what keeps the gate open." It thrummed with energy, emitting a high humming sound. "We need to take the sigil stone from the peak. The tower and the gate will collapse after that."

"And what happens to us?" Soren asked quietly, his eyes on Akarim now.

"We're teleported to outside the gate. Back to Nirn."

"So, we'll be safe?"

Oh.

It was then that Akarim realised just how young Soren was. He seemed like he was just a little over his second decade. The way he held himself. His stance. The way he spoke.

Soren didn't think he was going to make it through this.

He stepped closer to Soren. The other two guards were still fixated on the beam, not paying close attention to Akarim.

"I'll make sure you get out of here alive. That is a promise."

Soren swallowed, nodding in response.

"It's alright, sir. You don't need to make a promise you're not sure you will keep."

Fuck.

Burd tore his eyes away from the beam, moving back towards Akarim.

"Where to now?"

Akarim stepped back from Soren. No. He would make sure that Soren would get out alive. He would keep his promise.

"This way."

"It's a dead end!"  
They had to be nearing the top. The heat had increased dramatically, and they had run into twice as many daedra. They had also run into many dead ends. It was most frustrating on Akarim's part, as he was the one leading this merry band up the tower.

"They're coming from behind us!"

"Stand your ground!"

Akarim weaved through the three guards in front of him, sending an arrow through the chest of the spellcaster Dremora, following with a dropkick to the chest. He twisted himself around, landing on his feet. He ducked, just in time to dodge a fireball aimed at him from a scamp on the other side of the room. It didn't have time to ready itself for another fireball as Soren swung his sword. Akarim watched as he took the creature down. Whatever doubts Akarim had of Soren surviving were banished. He definitely knew how to fight, there was no denying it. His eyes met Soren's, who gave him a nod. Akarim nodded back just as Burd and Bor ran after the last Dremora with a battle cry, quickly disposing of it. Both Akarim and Soren ran after them, as it seemed the Dremora was heading in the direction they were supposed to go.

Winding up one last slope, they made it to the Sigilum Sanguis; the highest floor of the tower. Thunder rumbled from outside the tower, adding to the atmosphere that screamed 'you really need to get out of here' or 'you're not welcome here' or even 'You're going to die in here. Die!'. Whatever way it screamed, it wasn't a 'feel good' atmosphere.

They were so close. Just another flight of stairs before reaching the Sigil Stone, holding the gate in place. They could see it. They could touch it. They could taste it... Well, maybe not that last one. Akarim shot an arrow up at a clannfear. It dropped down to their level with a sickening slap. Burd had started up the stairs to fight the daedra waiting for them. Bor trailed behind him, sword at the ready. Akarim shot another towards an armour-clad dremora, and missed. The dremora turned its attention towards Akarim, who reached back to grasp another arrow-

Shit.

"I'm out of arrows!" He called out to the guards, backing away from the approaching daedra, who started aiming lightning spells at Akarim. "Help would be much appreciated, thanks!"

He readied his dagger. Not that it would really do much. He wasn't as confident wielding a blade. Especially against a dremora that was almost twice his height. He stumbled, narrowly avoiding another spell, through he crashed to the floor. Damn these daedra and their use of magicka. He flipped over, only to be faced with the dremora raising its sword above his head, swinging it towards Akarim-

"Ahh!"

Soren tackled the dremora to the floor with a cry. Akarim watched as they grappled, sword meeting sword. He cried out when the dremora got the upper hand, raising his blade and throwing it. It didn't do much. Just bouncing off the dremora's helmet and onto the floor, but it was a distraction. Enough of a distraction that Soren managed to twist and shove his sword through the dremora.

But not enough of a distraction to avoid the dremora's blade slicing into his side.

The dremora fell to the floor as Soren cried out in pain. Akarim made no hesitation running to his side, kneeling down next to him.

"Soren, you shouldn't- y-you should have-" Akarim noted the spread of blood on the floor beneath Soren. "Shit. Fuck-uh, no. I-it just looks bad, right?"

"I think... it hit bone."

"Fuck." He looked up to Burd and Bor, who were still fending off other daedra. He turned back to Soren. He didn't even have any healing potions. He needed to do something quick. Just something that would keep him alive until they reached Nirn again. "Fuck. Okay. No, I can-"

"Sir..."

"No. Shh. shut up Soren." He reached underneath his armour, ripping part of his underclothes off, rolling it up. He pulled part of Soren's armour away, pressing the cloth against the wound. His hands were shaking. "I've got to-"

"Akarim." Soren put a hand on top of Akarim's. "Don't. Just leave me."

"No. I'm not going to fucking leave you. I promised."

"It's okay. I won't make it-"

"Soren. I swear to Arkay, shut the fuck up." Akarim felt the heat gather at his palms. He hadn't healed someone in a very long time. He hoped it would be enough to work. "You will get out of here alive."

"W-what-" Soren watched as Akarim's hands started to glow. Akarim's eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he focused his energy. "You're trained in magicka?"

"Surprise." Akarim grunted. "You know my secret. Don't tell anyone." Soren fell quiet. Akarim noted that the sounds from the above level had grown quiet as well, which meant that they were dead, or they would be wondering where Akarim and Soren were. He pulled his hands away, the glow fading. "Keep applying pressure to the wound. I don't know how good of a job I did. If I did anything. Can you walk up those steps?"

"I... I don't think-"

"Here. Won't be comfortable but I'll get you out of here." He pulled pulled Soren up and over his shoulder, straightening his legs with a little bit of difficulty. "Here we go."

"You're full of surprises today, Hero of Kvatch."

Akarim just huffed in acknowledgment as he moved up the stairs. Keep Soren alive. Get the Sigil Stone. Get the fuck out.

No.

Keep Soren alive. Make sure Burd and Bor are still alive. Get the Sigil Stone. Get the fuck out.

"Akarim!" Came Burds booming voice as they moved up the stairs. "Soren?"

"Take the stone." He flicked his head towards the stone hovering on the edge of the platform, kept in place by the beam of energy. "Take it!"

Burd reached out, hand clasping around the stone. He wrenched it out of the beam. The effect was instantaneous. The tower started to rumble and crack. A white light began to grow from where the stone was, consuming everything in the way.

"Brace yourselves!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy  
> Akarim's secret is out.  
> Well, to Soren and the readers  
> the explanation will come later, i promise ;)


	21. The Blood Of Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Chapel healers will help him. You've done all you could."
> 
> "I'm afraid that all I could wasn't enough."
> 
> Burd squeezed his shoulder, before sliding his hand off.
> 
> "He was aware of the consequences when he volunteered to go into that gate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright next chapter is done  
> hope you enjoy

The light was blinding. Akarim could still see it through his eyelids. The ground disappeared, and he felt as if he was falling. He tightened his hold on Soren as everything seemed to move slowly for the next two seconds. He hit solid ground again, legs almost giving way beneath him. There was a deafening crack from somewhere behind him. He took a breath, falling forwards. He caught himself at the last moment, steadying himself.

Teleportation wasn't the most comfortable experience.

He opened his eyes, sliding Soren off of his shoulder carefully. He had been quiet. Too quiet.

"Soren?" He placed a hand against the side of Soren's face, leaving prints of blood. His blood seemed to be everywhere. There was so much of it. Akarim could feel his hands starting to shake again. "Hey? Can you hear me?"

Unresponsive.

Shit.

He pulled back Soren's armour frantically, digging his fingers into the younger man's neck.

He let out a huff of relief. His pulse was weak, but it was still there. He looked up as more of the Bruma guard came running over.

"Soren needs help!" Akarim shouted towards them. "He's been wounded!"

"Someone send word ahead to the Chapel!" Burd's voice came from behind Akarim. "Get a healer on standby!"

Two guards helped carry Soren away from the collapsed gate. A hand on Akarim's shoulder stopped him from following them.

"I need to-"

"The Chapel healers will help him. You've done all you could."

"I'm afraid that all I could wasn't enough."

Burd squeezed his shoulder, before sliding his hand off.

"He was aware of the consequences when he volunteered to go into that gate."

Akarim looked up at Burd in disbelief.

"He volunteered?"

"He was the first when I asked. Then Bor followed soon after. They're not the best that Nirn has to offer, but they're good enough. I wasn't going to force any of my guards to go into that gate."

Akarim shook his head.

"He's too young. He had his whole life ahead of him and that could have ended in that gate."

"But it didn't. Because of you. You kept your promise."

"I-"

"I overheard you two when we first walked into that tower. You looked out for him from the start. You looked out for all of us. Without you we would have never made it out alive. Akarim, with you, I know Nirn has a chance. The Hero of Kvatch will stop Mehrunes Dagon from walking on the earth."

Akarim grit his teeth. His eyes had found a spot on the floor. Every part of him screamed for him to run and never look back.

He didn't move a muscle.

"It was an honour to serve with you, sir. Now that I've seen how it's done, I think my guardsmen and I can handle any new Gates that open near Bruma."

One of Burd's guards spoke up.

"You did it, Captain! You closed the Oblivion Gate! We didn't think we'd ever see you alive again!"

"Believe me, it was no picnic. But thanks to our friend here," He gestured to Akarim, "I now know we can close these hell-gates. We can defend Bruma!"

"We really taught those bastards a lesson, didn't we, sir?"

"We sure did."

"I'll be... heading off now." Akarim started walking away. "I should report back to Jauffre."

"Thanks for your help closing that Gate. Don't worry, we can handle anything else they throw at us."

Akarim gave him a two-fingered salute before turning his back to the captain, heading towards Cloud Ruler Temple.

 

 

* * *

Jauffre's eyes widened in surprise as Akarim approached him in the courtyard of Cloud Ruler Temple.

"You're covered in blood-!"

Akarim held up his hands.

"It's not mine. I wasn't wounded this time. At all, actually. I've come back to report that the gate outside Bruma has been destroyed." He gestured to himself. "Hence why I'm here and not stuck back in Oblivion."

Jauffre nodded once.

"Good work. Captain Burd and his guardsmen should be able to handle any additional Gates, at least for now. Oh, that reminds me. Martin asked for you, when you had some free time."

"You... Don't need me for anything else?"

"I do have something I need you to do, but you need a break. I... believe that you have a lot of weight on your shoulders. You need some time once in a while just to, well, let yourself breathe."

Akarim's hand started playing with the edges of his cuirass.

"Jauffre, I don't-"

Jauffre held up his hands, stopping Akarim.

"Clean yourself. Give yourself some time, then see Martin. As patient as he seems, it has been a couple of days since your return."

Akarim took in his appearance. The blood had dried a long time ago and had started to flake off. He swallowed.

"Right." He nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Moving to the guard barracks in the West wing, he scrubbed himself down as best as he could, nabbing a spare set of clothes lying around (he did ask who they belonged to first. As much as the idea of one of the Blade's running around pant less appealed to him, they had been nothing but nice to him since he arrived at Cloud Ruler Temple). His wounds from the vampires had mostly healed. He prodded lightly at the wound on his neck. It was still tender, but had healed over. He had forgotten about his wounds, as he was too focused on the task at hand. He was glad he didn't return with more to add to the count. Akarim ran his fingers through his damp hair, untangling the wet strands. He pulled it back into a long braid, securing it with a tie at the end before pulling the length over his shoulder. It was starting to get rather long. Not that he minded. He liked the feel of his hair through his fingers and the way it fell down his back. He knew of multiple people, especially those of the female gender, who were envious of his hair. Especially when he weaved it in intricate designs and complemented it with a certain emerald green outfit that he had come across on one of his jobs (that he kept at Armand's place in case he needed it for... an emergency) and some fake breasts to fill out the bodice. He liked dressing in outfits which were traditionally for the female gender, and he wouldn't lie, he suited them very well. Of course, wearing these items as a male weren't widely accepted in majority of Tamriel. Robes were the closest thing to a dress a male could get away with wearing, although Akarim was never the one to play by the rules.

He sat on the floor for a moment longer, rubbing his hands over his face.

_Alright_. He thought to himself. _One step at a time_.

He headed out towards the doors to the Main Hall, nodding at Caroline, who was posted outside.

"Sir."

"Ma'am."

She gave him a smile in return as he pushed through the doors. Martin was, once again, seated at his table. Someone had moved another table next to him, which was littered with even more books and objects. Martin's sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and he had pulled his hair up away from his neck. Bits of his hair had fallen out of the tie, too short to even push back behind his ear. It was a good look on him. He was mumbling under his breath as his eyes skimmed across the pages in his hands. Akarim quietly sat down across from him, careful not to disturb the priest. His eyes began to wander over Martin again. He had a light dusting of freckles across his forearms and on his face. He had lines on his face which came with aging, though he had yet to sprout grey hairs. Akarim would have put his age at around his fourth decade. Maybe nearing his fifth. It was only that Akarim really had a look at him that he made the assumption of his age. There was a sparkle in Martin's eye when he spoke to Akarim, and the way he fought in combat. He age didn't seen to hinder his abilities in combat.

As the sun disappeared in the horizon, the glow of the fire in the hearth made shadows dance across Martin's figure. It made the blue in his eyes seem more pronounced.

Akarim had crossed his arms over the table, laying his head down on top. It had been about three hours since he had come back from Bruma. Three hours that he had just sat and watched Martin. He didn't feel the urge to move any time soon, or ever, really. He was content to just stay in this moment forever.

Wow.

That was a new feeling.

Which was definitely raising some red flags for Akarim.

"How long have you been sitting here?"

Akarim snapped out of his daze, lifting his head to look up at Martin.

"Oh, uh, a couple of hours? I think?"

Martin's eyes had softened as he spoke.

"I'm glad to see that you returned in one piece."

Akarim shrugged.

"Somebody else was wounded instead."

Martin closed the book in his hands.

"One of the Bruma guards?"

"Yeah."

"Did they... Are they alright?"

"Oh, yeah. He made it out. I didn't think he would make it, but he did. I mean, he was taken away when we returned to Nirn and he's being healed in the Chapel in Bruma." Akarim rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. "I think he made it. I hope he did. He was so young. Just over two decades. No one should be exposed to the horrors of Oblivion, let alone him."

"Akarim." Martin put his hand over Akarim's as a means to console him. "He survived. He will live on. His life didn't end in Oblivion, and I doubt it will be ending any time soon."

Akarim sighed, looking down at their hands.

"I know. And it was his choice. What he does with his life is not my business either."

Martin patted his hand twice before standing up from the table.

"Could you come with me for a moment?"

Akarim watched him as he stood, eyes narrowing.

"What do you need me for?"

Martin sighed.

"Just come with me. I want to show you something."

He followed Martin into the library. On one of the tables stood a wooden box. Martin gestured to it, waiting.

"... Did you want me to open it?"

"Of course."

Akarim stood closer to it, reaching out to grasp the edge of the lid.

"If all you wanted was for me to open this, I don't see why you couldn't have asked one of the Blades- Oh my Gods." He pulled his hands back for a moment as the lid slid off the top. He slowly reached back towards the open box, running his hand across the glass bow inside. He pulled his hand back as it glowed with an enchantment. "Is this...?"

"It's a gift. I asked for someone to fetch it for me about a week or so ago. I remember you telling me that you used to have one before we met. They couldn't find the original left at the Imperial Prison, so I had another made for you." Martin rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. "I hope it's sufficient enough-!"

Akarim threw his arms around Martin, pressing his lips firmly against. He pulled back slightly, smiling as he spoke.

"It's beautiful. Thank you."

Martin smiled warmly, trailing his hand down Akarim's cheek.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Do you need me to fetch anything for you at the moment?"

"I have yet to decipher the next part of the ritual, but that is all I am working towards at the time being."

"Oh, good. Because I was wondering..." His hands wandered down Martin's chest, settling on his hips.

"About what?"

"Well, maybe we could go upstairs... and fuck?"

"That was... rather brash."

Akarim shrugged.

"I already know that you're interested in me. May as well cut the chase and get to the point."

"Or," Martin pushed Akarim backwards, hooking his hand underneath Akarim's leg as he pushed him up to sit on the table, "I could take you right here?"

"In the Library?" Akarim gasped in mock-exasperation. "But Martin, what if someone were to walk in on us?"

"Someone just did." Both of them froze, slowly looking over at Baurus, who was obviously avoiding looking at the two of them by looking straight up at the roof. "And I am going to leave before I see something that I don't want to see." He moved back in the direction he came from. "I'll be stationed somewhat outside the door."

"Hey Baurus," Akarim piped up, "Maybe you can-"

"I'M NOT JOINING IN!" He slammed the doors shut behind him, hard enough that it rattled the windows on the opposite side of the room.

Silence settled around them. Akarim's lips twitched as his eyes found Martin's.

"So..."

"I was hoping that you would join me in my bed chambers tonight."

"Like I'm going to turn you down-"

"But you are going to have to wait until later. Once I have deciphered more of the Mysterium Xarxes."

Akarim dropped back onto his elbows, groaning as he tilted his head back.

"That could take hours."

Martin chuckled.

"You are a creative type of elf. I know you will find a way to occupy yourself until then." He tapped Akarim lightly on the leg. "I overheard some of the Blades mentioning that they missed your stories over supper." He started moving away. "Maybe you should pay them a visit."

Akarim sat back up, watching Martin for a moment.

"If you're making me wait this long, you better be good in bed."

Martin's laugh echoed in his ears.

 

 

 

Have a bloodied Akarim for your viewing pleasure:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay got a couple of things to say:  
> 1\. If you havent yet, you should totes check out the art ive put in previous chapters  
> 2\. probs gon change the rating to explicit. depends on the next chapter ;)  
> 3\. thanks again to my beta reader Kako (ilysm <3 )
> 
> Art by AngeltheMerman [Tumblr](http://homeofthebuttwings.tumblr.com/) and [Deviantart](http://angelmermaid.deviantart.com/)


	22. A Scandal in Bruma, Kind of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Then I take it that you and the Emperor are not as close as I thought to be sharing such stories?"
> 
> Akarim raised an eyebrow.
> 
> "The former priest of Akatosh, and now Emperor, Martin Septim, and me, just a simple Bosmer, close? How close were you thinking?"
> 
> "There have been... rumours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man, idk why this took forever to write, like, i knew what i wanted to happen but getting it down into words just wasnt happening  
> anyway, it's done, and im another chapter closer to finishing  
> hopefully you enjoy <3

He began the unknown-number-of-hours-Martin-was-going-to-take-deciphering-the-next-part-of-the-Mysterium-Xarxes-long wait by catching up with Caroline, who was still stationed outside the Main Hall.

"How long have you been standing out here for?" He asked as he approached the Blade.

"It's my job, sir. I am well accustomed to the cold and waiting."

"You've been out here since I returned. How much longer do you have until someone takes over?"

"Sometime soon. Pelagius will relieve me of my post when it is time."

Akarim leant back against the wall, looking across the courtyard. Two other Blades were stationed above the gates, scanning for enemies of the Empire. Another two were sparring, the sounds of metal against metal echoing through the mountains. A Blade emerged from the stables covered in hay. They were also missing their helmet. Probably trouble with the horses.

... Except the horses weren't currently in those set of stables. They were being lead around outside the temple grounds for them to get used to their new horseshoes which were fitted by a blacksmith earlier.

He turned his attention back to Caroline.

"If you could visit anywhere in Tamriel, where would you go?"

Caroline glanced over at Akarim, before looking back ahead.

"I'd visit my sister in High Rock. It has been a number of years since I have seen her. Letters can only say so much, and they can take weeks to deliver."

"Hasn't she come to visit you at all?"

Caroline shook her head.

"She married a nord noble two years ago and has a child along the way. She hasn't had the time to visit."

"What's her name?"

"Annabelle."

"Are you the eldest?"

Caroline suddenly laughed, startling Akarim.

"Only by ten minutes."

He frowned in confusion. Ten minutes...?

"Oh!" It clicked. "You're a twin?"

"Yes, sir." She smiled. "But what about you? Where would you visit?"

"I have been all across Tamriel. Wait, no. I lie. I have yet to reach the Summerset Isles, but I prefer Cyrodiil over anywhere else."

"If I may ask, why is that?"

Akarim shrugged.

"It's where I've made a living. It was the first place I visited when I left Valenwood," He smiled, "I suppose it's the closest thing to calling home."

Another Blade had emerged from the stables, also covered in hay but carrying two helmets. They seemed to be trying just a bit too hard to look like they had not just spent their time doing some... extraneous activities. Akarim smirked. So, not horse trouble, but a scandal of lovers at Cloud Ruler Temple.

"Sir."

Pelagius had come from the west wing of the building. His hand idly curled around the hilt of his blade as he spoke to Caroline.

"I have come to relieve you of your post."

"Thank you, sir." Caroline stepped away from the wall, bowing to the other Blade, before turning back to Akarim. "I suppose I should help prepare for dinner. Will you be joining us tonight?"

"Oh, definitely, I'll pop in a bit later."

Caroline gave him a smile, waving as she moved inside the Main Hall. Akarim could feel the heat from the fire from where he was standing. He turned his attention to Pelagius, a smile playing at his lips.

"You've got a little bit of hay stuck in your helmet." Akarim pointed to his own head. "Trouble with the horses, I suppose?"

"Y-yes, sir." Pelagius was pawing at his helmet, trying to dislodge the hay almost frantically.

"That's strange. Because I'm fairly certain that there are no horses in that stable at this moment." At that moment, the gate opened for a Blade leading three through the opened doors. Akarim crossed his arms over his chest. "Anything to say to that?"

Pelagius opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it. Then opened it again, a blush rising across his cheeks.

"I-I believe that you are distracting me from my duty, sir." He swallowed, turning away from Akarim to look straight ahead. "If there is something you need, I will have to direct you to Captain Steffan or Roliand."

Akarim winked.

"I'm teasing. Though, I might suggest somewhere more... reserved for such extraneous activities. Anyone could walk into those stables. Unless... That's what you were going for?"

"S-sir, if you don't mind, could you please keep your voice down." Pelagius nodded at a Blade that had passed. "I would much rather you keep this to yourself."

"There is literally no one here who would be for 'ripe gossip' of the Blades of Cloud Ruler Temple."

"Then I take it that you and the Emperor are not as close as I thought to be sharing such stories?"

Akarim raised an eyebrow.

"The former priest of Akatosh, and now Emperor, Martin Septim, and me, just a simple Bosmer, close? How close were you thinking?"

"There have been... rumours."

"Already?" Akarim shrugged. "That was pretty quick. Seeing as though we haven't even slept together."

"...You haven't?"

"Yet." He winked again at Pelagius. "Ask me again tomorrow."

"I-I'd rather not..."

"Your loss." He saluted with two of his fingers. "I shall leave you to your post, then."

"Thank you, sir." Pelagius sighed in relief. "Now, if you would excuse me."

Akarim turned away with a wave.

"I'll leave you to it."

* * *

 

"... So, eventually, I wake up. It's dark and I'm in some kind of closet and I make an attempt to move when there's a groan from somewhere next to me. That's when I realised that I couldn't move my hand because, well, I was handcuffed to the guard that I was trying to chat up earlier."

"Marillion?"

Akarim pointed at Cyrus.

"She's the one. Anyway, we both, surprisingly, had all of our clothes on, so I was trying to remember, well, anything that had happened. I found out later that the party had lasted four days and had managed to move across High Rock from Daggerfall to Evermor, which wasn't the first time that had happened."

"How does a party with so many people 'move'?"

"That is a good question, Captain Steffan, which I do not know the answer of, though I do believe it is a combination of magic, horses, and some good ol' walking."

"So, then what happened?" Caroline spoke up.

"So, the guard, Marillion, starts to get agitated. She's trying to find the key to unlock us that she had kept on her belt, which was missing. Well, Derrin had stolen it, and we had no idea where he was. So she grabs her dagger while pulling my arm towards her and says: 'This is it. Hold out your arm'. She was ready to cut off my arm just to separate us. I mean, I know I can be just a tad obnoxious at times-"

"That's a mild way to put it."

Baurus was seated in the corner opposite to Akarim, his arms folded across his chest. Akarim rolled his eyes, continuing.

"So, I spent the next five minutes trying to avoid the swiping of her blade, which, by the way, is very difficult in a closet, until someone ripped open the door. And there, standing in the light of the open doors was-"

"Derrin?"

"With the belt, my bow and the fucking handcuff key hanging from his hand."

Laughs erupted around the table. Cyrus clapped Akarim on the back, grinning widely.

"I've missed listening to your stories over supper."

"We all have," Caroline added from across the table.

Akarim bowed his head, smiling.

"I'm glad all of you enjoy listening. Without an audience, my words mean nothing."

Cyrus pushed himself up from the table, collecting his empty dishes.

"My watch starts soon, but you must tell me what happened to Derrin when you get the chance."

Akarim laughed.

"Oh, definitely. I'll tell you the about the last time I ran into that Breton."

"I'll keep your word for it." He turned and began to move down the stairs, out into the courtyard.

Baragon excused himself next, along with Jena and Steffan, which left just Akarim, Baurus and Caroline. Caroline had begun cleaning up empty bowls and plates, the chinks of wooden and pewter against each other being the only noises in the room. Akarim looked over at Baurus, folding his arms across his chest and mirroring the Blade's posture. Baurus' eye twitched as he moved, leaning forward and putting his hands on his knees, which Akarim copied.

"What are you do-"

"What are you doing?" Akarim finished.

Baurus narrowed his eyes.

"That's not fu-"

"That's not funny."

He stood up from his seat.

"Akarim, stop-"

"Akarim, stop it!"

Both he and Akarim were pointing at each other from across the table. Caroline had stepped back, but was giggling as she watched. A blush had spread across Baurus' cheeks as his eyes flitted over to Caroline, then back at Akarim. Akarim mirrored Baurus for a moment longer, before breaking eye contact and smiling widely.

"I'm going to leave." He stood, collecting his own dishes to clean. "Baurus, you should help Caroline clean the rest of this up. It would take less time than her doing it by herself."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I am still healing and it is taking up most of my energy. I can hardly even carry these plates." He looked down at his plates, which he was having no trouble carrying at all. "And I can feel my connection that I have with Martin and he needs my help, alright, bye!" He almost ran out of the room, closing the doors quickly behind him.

It wasn't that he wanted to get out of washing dishes, no. As much as he disliked it, if Caroline had asked, he would have made no hesitation to wash them. No. He just gave Baurus an excuse to spend some time with Caroline.

Oh, yes. Akarim believed they made a good couple.

He didn't want to force anything, but he thought a gentle push might do some good.

After putting his dishes away, he headed back towards the Main Hall. He hesitated outside the door for a moment, putting his hand against the wooden panel, feeling the warmth radiating from inside, before he pushed-

The door swung back towards him, hitting him on the head. He fell backwards, landing hard on his backside with a yelp.

"Oh, my apologies!" Martin knelt down next to Akarim, reaching out to put his hand against Akarim's head. "I wasn't expecting you to be there."

"I wasn't aware that the doors could swing both ways." He huffed as he lightly pushed Martin's hands away. "I'm alright."

"You're going to have a bruise." Martin stood back up, holding out his hand.

"Another battle wound to add to my beaten body." He took the outstretched hand, standing up with a wince. "Make that two." He rubbed his backside. "Don't fall onto the floor. It's hard and it hurts."

"I will keep that in mind." He smiled at Akarim.

"You going somewhere?"

"Actually, I came to find you. I've deciphered the next part of the Xarxes. Another item is needed for the ritual to open the portal to Camoran's Paradise-"

"Yes!" Akarim fist-pumped the air. "Finally!" He grabbed Martin's hand, pulling him back into the Main Hall. "We're going to your bed- Oh, hello, Jauffre." He came to a stop, letting go of Martin's hand.

"Oh. I didn't realise you were so eager to find the next item for the ritual," Jauffre greeted. "I would suggest waiting until tomorrow morning as it is quite late into the evening."

"Actually, Jauffre, you see, Martin and I were about to-"

"-Collect some of my notes that might help Akarim on the way." Martin had gripped the back of Akarim's shirt. It was a warning; Shut. Up. "He could also use some more information on where he can find the blood of a Divine."

Wait.

_The blood of a Divine?_

"Ah, yes. I'll give you the details in the morning." Jauffre had tucked a couple of books under his arm as he flicked through the papers in his hands, "Oh, and this was delivered earlier." He handed some papers to Martin. "I hope it helps."

"Ah. Thank you." Martin nodded. "I appreciate the help."

"It's my duty, Martin." He nodded once. "But the hour is late and I must sort through these before I can retire for the night." He held up another stack of papers. "So, if you'll excuse me. Martin. Akarim." He moved around the two of them, heading out the door. Martin's hand slowly uncurled from Akarim's shirt.

"Akarim..."

"To your bed chambers," he pointed towards the door, "we go!"

Martin sighed, shaking his head as he smiled.

"Lead onwards."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big, big, BIG thanks to my beta reader Kako. You've been here from the start and you're a primary reason why I keep writing this.  
> Thank you <3 <3 <3


	23. Secrets and Discarded Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What did you do before?"
> 
> Akarim frowned.
> 
> "What do you mean?"
> 
> "Before you became a thief."
> 
> ...Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aww yeah son  
> tbh favourite chapter to write so far  
> thanks to my beta reader once again <3  
> enjoy

He slid the door closed, his mouth twitching up into a smile as he turned around.

"So, how do you want me-!"

Martin surged forward, cupping Akarim's cheeks with his hands as he connected their lips. He dropped a hand down to curl around Akarim's waist, turning slightly to push the Bosmer against the wall. Akarim moaned softly, hands moving to Martin's waist, gripping his robe as he pulled him closer. They parted their lips, tongues meeting as hands wandered up and down each other's bodies, squeezing and rubbing. Martin took Akarim's bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at it.

"Ow..."

"You liked it."

"...Do it again-"

A cough outside the door paused their movements. Martin laughed nervously.

"... I seemed to have forgotten about the guard stationed outside my door during the night."

Akarim groaned, thumping his head against Martin's chest.

"Fucking- Hang on. I've got this."

He pulled away, ignoring Martin's hushed 'What are you doing?' as he opened the door to pop his head through.

"Hello!"

Baragon jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of the Bosmer. He had gripped the hilt of his blade with his hand.

"Akarim! Hello." He uncurled his hand from the hilt. "I wasn't expecting you to be with the Em- with Martin at this time-"

"Apologies. I have taken it upon myself to keep an eye on him tonight as we are discussing, ah, matters concerning the Mysterium Xarxes and I'm pretty sure I can handle one night's watch."

"Sir, I don't mean to be a bother, but I need to take this up with the Captain-"

"By all mean, go ahead. I'll be here for the rest of the night, anyway. If the Captain gives the 'all's clear', you don't need to return to tell me. Your absence will be enough."

"Oh-uh, sure." Baragon pointed towards the stairs. "I'll go, then-"

"Bye!"

He closed the door quickly, almost tripping over his feet as he moved back over to Martin, who had sat on the edge of the bed. 

"How do you know that he's not going to come back?"

Akarim straddled Martin's lap, putting his hands on his shoulders as he shrugged.

"I don't. Quick. Let's get started before they come back-"

Martin's finger against his lips shut him up.

"No. I'm not going to have the Captain, and possibly Jauffre, walk in on us." He ignored Akarim's whine of protest. "We are going to wait this out. At least half an hour. If Baragon does not return, then maybe I will consider continuing."

"Hnnt nou."

Martin dropped his hand.

"What was that?"

"I hate you."

"I doubt that." He stood up, turning and dropping Akarim onto the bed.

"Fine then." Akarim scooted backwards, leaning back against the pillows at the head of the bed. "If you won't do it, I'll take care of myself."

"Akarim, what are you-" Akarim had taken himself out of his pants, slowly stroking himself to hardness. He gave a smug smile to Martin. "No, stop that." 

"No, I don't think I will..."

Martin's eye twitched.

"Put it back."

"Mmmmmmmmake me."

"Fine then. I will."

Martin had put one knee on the bed when Akarim rolled off the side. He wasted no time pulling off his pants and waving them above his head.

"Now what are you going to do- shit-" He dodged out of the way as Martin attempted to grab his arms. He moved to the other side of the room, balling his pants up in his fist. "I'll throw these away." He held his fist above his head. "I'll do it."

Martin had gotten back to his feet. He pointed at him from across the room.

"Put your pants back on!"

Akarim crossed his arms, shaking his head.

"No. I don't think I will..."

"What if someone were to come back?" He hissed, glancing over at the door then back to Akarim. "What if they saw you?"

Akarim shrugged.

"I'll tell them that I don't like wearing pants? Maybe ask them to join in- ah!"

Martin had almost thrown himself across the bed at Akarim. He caught himself at the last moment, using his momentum to grab onto Akarim before he could dodge out of the way. Martin stumbled backwards, dragging the both of them onto the bed. Akarim let out a shout of surprise, arms flailing and almost hitting Martin in the face.

"Give me your pants!"

"Ha ha, no!" He was wriggling to get out of Martin's hold as he held his pants out of Martin's reach. "You can't have them-"

"E-excuse me, Sire? Akarim?" Baragon's voice paused their movement. He spoke through the closed door. "I know you told me I didn't have to return to tell you if it was fine with the Captain, but I felt it better to let you know-"

"Hey, Baragon-"

Martin clamped his hand over Akarim's mouth.

"Shut it." He hissed in Akarim's ear, before turning his head towards the door. "Ah, thank you. Please, have a nice night off."

"I thank you, Sire." There was sounds of movement moving away from the door, before his voice came again. "Oh, and you too. With the nice night. I mean, as good of a night as you can with studying the Mysterium Xarxes-" He stopped himself. "I'll... be taking my leave now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Baragon." Martin listened, waiting until he was certain Baragon was out of earshot before he turned back to Akarim with a sigh. "Akarim, why must you be so difficult?"

"Bnnncmms m n ssmn."

Martin removed his hand from Akarim's mouth, dropping it to the bed.

"I didn't quite catch that."

Akarim took a breath.

"Because I'm an asshole." He rolled his eyes. "Was that not clear? I'm an annoying, little piece of shit. I deliberately stir people up because I know I'll get a reaction." He threw his pants onto the floor. "I'm also ready for you to put me in my place, which is beneath you. Y'know, like the social status way and physically. You should fuck me, like, right now."

Martin groaned, pushing his face into Akarim's neck.

"You, Akarim, are going to be the death of me."

* * *

 

Martin kissed Akarim twice on the back of his neck before pulling away. He fell onto the bed next to the Bosmer, reaching out to run his fingers through his auburn hair. Akarim hummed in content, pulling his face out of the pillow to face Martin.

"Where on Nirn did a priest of Akatosh learn that?"

Martin smiled, moving his hand to push Akarim's hair out of his eyes.

"I haven't always been a priest."

"You probably were part of a daedric cult or something," Akarim joked.

"Yes. I was."

Akarim paused.

"That... was unexpected."

"I have felt and followed the seductive pull of the daedra. I have meddled with the dark powers of Daedric Princes."

"Huh." Akarim settled back down on the bed. "Alright. Can I ask which one?"

"Sanguine."

"...Holy shit." Akarim started laughing, rolling onto his back. "The Priest of Akatosh, Martin. Son of Uriel Septim. The heir to the throne, Martin Septim, was a fucking worshipper of the Daedric Prince Sanguine."

Martin propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Akarim.

"Why do you find this so humourous?"

"It all makes sense." Akarim shook his head. "No wonder you're so good in bed."

Martin snorted, rolling over and facing away from Akarim.

"You're such a charmer."

Akarim moved across, slinking an arm around Martin's waist, pressing his lips against Martin's neck.

"I aim to please."

"You sure do."

He snorted, pressing his forehead against Martin's back. His breathing was slowly lulling Akarim to sleep.

"Akarim?"

Well, almost to sleep.

"Mmm?"

"Do you mind if I..."

"What?"

He felt Martin draw a breath in.

"I... Apologise now if I offend you in any way-"

"Remember: I'm an asshole. I can take it."

Martin sighed.

"I... I know your name. Your first name. I know your physical aspects. Probably more than I intended when I first met you."

"Yeah, you do."

Martin rolled his eyes, continuing.

"I know you're a Bosmer. You prefer archery over any other weapon. You have travelled all across Tamriel. You lost a lover years ago. You don't like using magic. You have an anxiety issue that you deal with regularly, but it doesn't hinder your abilities, and I've only seen it take you down once since we met."

Akarim shrugged. 

"Pretty much. That is me."

"That is what I know about Akarim, but it feels like nothing at all. Who are you, Akarim?"

Akarim pulled away, sitting up. The sheets pooled around his waist.

"I don't understand..."

Martin rolled back. He paused for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. He shook his head.

"Where do you come from?" His eyes didn't leave the ceiling as he spoke. "What did you do before this Crisis happened? Give me something. Anything. Who are you?"

"Okay, well, I came from Greenheart in Valenwood. I left when I was younger because I couldn't stand it there. My family doesn't like me and I haven't seen them since I left. I'm probably never going to see them again. It's for the best. I... I work for the Thieves Guild, and have for the past decade or so. I like my job and the people I work with-"

Martin sat up.

"You're a thief?"

"Uh, yes?"

"...Hmm."

Martin crossed his arms over his chest.

"Look, if you have a problem with it, you can say so. I'm probably not-"

He stopped himself. Martin had looked away and had started drumming his fingers on his arm.

Wait.

Akarim had started thinking back to the work he had done. When was the last time he stole from a Priest? Had he ever stolen from a Priest? When was he last in Kvatch for the Thieves Guild?

"Shit." Akarim rubbed a hand over his face as he groaned. "Shit. Okay, I'm sorry if I stole something from you. I can't remember what it was, but I apologise for it-"

"Akarim, no." Martin leant over, putting his hand on Akarim's knee. "I have never been robbed. You haven't stolen anything from me. Unless you've taken something since we arrived at Cloud Ruler Temple."

Akarim let out a sigh of relief. He shook his head, dropping his hand into his lap.

"No. I haven't. As much fun as it seems to try to smuggle armour out of here, which seems to be the only really valuable things here, I've been too occupied with getting things for you to even attempt that."

"So, really, I'm what's stopping you."

Akarim shrugged.

"That, and the fact that the armour that the Blades wear take a really long time to make. If someone here were to find themselves short of a full body of armour, that's one less person here to... well, protect you."

"That is... considerate of you."

Akarim laughed.

"I haven't needed to make money since I got here. There's a roof over my head, there's spare clothes that I don't have to wear three weeks in a row, I get fed, and now I get free sex."

"Who says you're going to get more?"

"Oh please, Martin." He slid back down the bed, propping his head onto his hand as he threw off the sheets. "I know you find this," he gestured to his own body before placing his hand on his hip, "Totally irresistible."

"Ah, but you forget, Akarim. I am working very hard to decipher the Mysterium Xarxes. Who knows if we will get another chance-"

"No!" He put his hand over Martin's mouth. "Shh, don't jinx it."

Martin pulled Akarim's hand away from his mouth, pressing his lips against his knuckles. He smiled at Akarim.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're a really fucking good lay, and sweet damn, if there's more to you than what I bore witness to tonight, then sign me the fuck up."

"Then I suppose," he kissed the back of Akarim's hand, "you'll just," he kissed the crease of his elbow, "have to," he kissed his neck, "find out."

"Yes please."

"Later." He grazed his teeth over the junction between Akarim's neck and shoulder. "What did you do before?"

Akarim frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Before you became a thief."

...Shit.

"I-I've always been a thief-"

Martin raised an eyebrow.

Shit.

"Liar."

Shit shit shit.

"What are you-"

"You know how to use magic. You have used it before. I know you have studied at the Arcane University."

"...W-who told you?"

"No one." Martin shrugged. "That was where we first met."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehehehehehhehehehehehehehheheEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEEHHEHEHEHEHEHE ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )


	24. Secret-Spilling Asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akarim put his head in his hands, groaning.
> 
> "I thought I was doing so well to cover up my past."
> 
> "Only to have me uncover it in a few weeks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man i loved writing this chapter  
> and im totally not sorry about last chapter's cliffhanger  
> Special thanks to my beta reader Kako <3  
> anyway, enjoy :)

"Bullshit."

Martin laughed, shifting himself over on the bed.

"Believe me, when the thought occurred, I didn't believe it either."

Akarim shook his head.

"No. I can't... I don't remember meeting you before."

"Well, it makes sense. We were both intoxicated at the time. Heavily intoxicated. But yes. We've met. And slept together, before what happened tonight."

Akarim frowned.

"How... how did you figure that out?"

Martin reached out, running his fingers over the healed wound against Akarim's neck. Akarim leant into the touch, eyebrows furrowed together as he watched Martin.

"The fact that you heal quickly should have confirmed my assumptions, but it was your tattoo, and," he held up his hand, wiggling his fingers. "'Healers hands'."

Akarim put his head in his hands, groaning.

"I thought I was doing so well to cover up my past."

"Only to have me uncover it in a few weeks."

Akarim peeked at Martin through his fingers.

"...You fucker."

"So, why the secrecy about who you are?"

"That," Akarim pointed at Martin, "Is a very good question, that I may tell you. Later. It's been locked away for a reason."

Martin thought for a moment, holding eye contact with Akarim. He nodded.

"I can live with that. But if I can ask, because I cannot remember, what did you study at the Arcane University?"

"All that I could, which was everything. I was there for over a decade, so I decided to learn everything that I could. I excelled in Destruction, so I suppose that's what I was good at?"

"Did you finish your studies?"

"Oh, yes. I also spent a couple of years at the College of Winterhold. Actually, that was probably why I didn't see you again. I remember the party before a group of us left to go to Skyrim and someone invited these daedric worshippers-" he cut himself off. "Holy shit. That was you." He started laughing. "You gate crashed the party but no one turned the group away..." He peered at Martin's face. "Hang on. No. I do remember you. When we first met, I thought it was because you looked like your father, which you do, but I knew I had seen you before." Akarim's eyes widened. "Wait, yes. You used to have really long hair and you wore this dark purple tunic and you had these piercings-"

"Yes." Martin cut him off. "I would rather you not remind me."

"No, no, you showed everyone the ones you had. You even had one-"

"Akarim..."

"-on your dick!"

Martin sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes. Thank you, for that."

Akarim settled back against the headboard.

"You should have kept it." He put his hands behind his head. "Would have made tonight even more enjoyable."

Martin rolled his eyes, settling back down next to Akarim.

"May I ask, how old are you?"

"Uh..." Akarim frowned. "48? I think."

Martin blinked.

"That... No." He shook his head. "You barely look over 25."

"As you can see," Akarim smirked, "I am a Bosmer. Elven genetics. We can live over-"

"200 years. Yes. I am aware. It had... slipped my mind."

"We also age slower, hence why," he gestured to himself, "elves appear younger than they are."

"Hmm."

"What?

"That would mean you're only a couple of years younger than me."

Akarim hummed in acknowledgement. "Yep." He rolled onto his stomach, bunching his arms underneath the pillow. "Is that all you want to know, for now?"

Martin sighed.

"For now, yes."

"Mmm, good." He stifled a yawn, reaching out towards Martin. "C'mere." He waited until Martin settled back down, pulling himself over to rest his head against Martin's chest. He lay listening to Martin's heartbeat. It was strong and steady. "I will tell you more about me, in due time. I'm just not... ready yet."

Martin's arm moved, rubbing up and down Akarim's back. Akarim hummed in content.

"I... understand. It's not my place to ask of you to tell me something you don't want me to know."

"Shh." Akarim wrapped an arm tighter around Martin's waist. "Sleep now. Talk later."

He felt Martin laugh, before his breathing evened out. Martin's hand continued stroking Akarim's back. He found himself counting the breaths. They never faultered, eventually lulling him to sleep.

* * *

 

"You said you were going to keep an eye on him, not sleep with the bloody Emperor!"

Akarim shrugged.

"I did keep an eye on him. Most of the time. You know, apart from when he flipped me over and-"

"-I don't need to know the details!" Jauffre held up his hands, cutting Akarim off. He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, I'm not telling you to not sleep with Martin, but-"

"Don't sleep with Martin?"

"Yes-no!" Jauffre groaned, turning away from Akarim. "I am in no place to discuss you and Martin's relationship with each other, but I can't have this distracting the both of you from the Crisis we have at hand."

"It's not distracting us-"

"You took it upon yourself to keep watch last night," he said, turning back to face Akarim. "And instead you bedded the would-be Emperor, and slept instead of keeping your guard on! What if someone were to break in during the night-"

"-but they didn't-"

"-and attack Martin while he was sleeping-"

"-but they didn't-"

"-and we would have been left without an heir to the throne-"

"Jauffre! Martin is alive and well! No one attacked us, no one was injured!"

"But it could have happened, Akarim!" Jauffre ran a hand over his face. "Martin's safety is paramount. We have to take all scenarios into consideration. We cannot make this mistake again."

"Okay. I am sorry for... sleeping on the job, but this was a one off time thing-"

Jauffre crossed his arms.

"Is it?"

Shit.

"I-" Akarim swallowed. "... maybe?"

Jauffre sighed again.

"You're good for him. You make him smile. Every time you come back, relief crosses his face. It only happens when you've returned."

"So, what your saying is... I can continue sleeping with him?"

"Well, yes. But I'm also saying that this better not be 'just sleeping'."

Oh.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Look, Jauffre." Akarim rubbed the back of his neck. "It's too soon to say what exactly will become of Martin and I, and I suppose it is between the both of us at the moment."

"I... Yes. You're right." He nodded once. "I apologise prying. I suppose that this is, ah, none of my business."

"Good morning, Jauffre. Akarim." Martin had books bundled underneath his arm and pieces of parchment folded in his hand. Baurus had trailed in behind Martin, arms folded across his chest, avoiding looking Akarim in the eye.

"Ah, Martin." Jauffre turned away from Akarim to face Martin. "How do you fare this morning?"

Akarim stepped to the side, waving subtly at Martin to get his attention. He cupped his hand against the side of his face, pointing at Jauffre as he mouthed 'he knows'.

Martin stiffened, eye twitching slightly, before he let out his breath.

"I-I am well, thank you. Well rested, and ready for a day of deciphering the Mysterium Xarxes. Which I should get onto, now, if you'll excuse me." He stepped past Jauffre, glancing at Akarim. We will talk later.

"Akarim."

He turned back to Jauffre, nodding.

"Yes?"

"Since I have a moment of your time, it has come to my attention that we need to keep Bruma safe against an attack of the Mythic Dawn. While daedra of Oblivion are unnumerable, the men of the Bruma guard are not. We need to gather what allies we can before Bruma is hopelessly besieged. If the Mythic Dawn manages to open a Great Gate here, the city will need a stronger garrison for there to be any hope of defending it. You should speak to the rulers of the other cities of Cyrodiil, as well as the Elder Council. Ask them to send what aid to Bruma before it is too late."

Akarim nodded. 

"Yes. I should get myself some breakfast before setting off for the journey ahead."

* * *

 

"Alright. Who told Jauffre?"

There was a handful of Blades at the table that morning. Amongst them were Caroline, Baragon and Pelagius.

"You." Akarim pointed at Baragon. "You were the last one to see us."

Baragon held up his hands.

"Please, sir. I don't know what you're talking about?"

Akarim narrowed his eyes.

"Don't play innocent with me. Who did you tell?"

"It wasn't me!" He glanced at Pelagius out of the corner of his eye, before looking at Akarim again. "I don't know anything."

Akarim turned towards Pelagius, who quickly stood up from the table.

"No. No, it wasn't me-"

"You heard rumours, or rather, that is what you told me. Or were you the one spreading them in the first place?"

Pelagius licked his lips. He swallowed, trembling under Akarim's gaze.

"I-I heard from Captain Steffan!"

"Steffan?"

Akarim paused, whipping around to face Baragon.

"You! You spoke to Steffan before returning!"

"Honest to the divines, I don't know what everyone is talking about!"

"You told Steffan that Martin and I slept together!"

Baragon frowned.

"You... slept with the Emperor?"

Akarim swallowed.

"You weren't... lying, then." He waved him off. "You're off the hook." He turned back to Pelagius, hearing Baragon standing up from the table. "Then you, who did Steffan hear from-"

He paused, turning to face Baragon again.

"No. Liar." He stepped closer to the Blade, who took a step backwards. "You just hinted at Pelagius knowing. You told!"

Pelagius turned to Baragon, betrayal in his eyes.

"How could you? I trusted you!"

Baragon frantically pointed at Caroline.

"Caroline! It was Caroline! She told me!"

All eyes were on Caroline, who seemed to suddenly be very interested in what she was eating. Akarim crossed his arms.

"Caroline?"

Her lips were pressed in a thin line.

"Hmm?"

"Did you tell Baragon about Martin and I?"

She swallowed her food.

"...Yes. Yes, I did."

He leant over, putting his hands on the table.

"How did you find out?"

"He's probably going to kill me for this, but it was-"

"Baurus."

Caroline's eyes widened.

"How did you-"

"Of course it was him. He walked in on us."

"Walked in on you doing what, exactly?"

Akarim turned to Pelagius.

"Fucking on top of this table." He dead panned. The remainder of the seated Blades stood up quickly, which consisted of Arcturus and Fortis, stepping back with their hands up. Caroline was the only one that continued eating, shrugging the comment off like it was the norm. Akarim rolled his eyes. "Of course we didn't fuck on this table. Are you kidding me? It's only been one night. Last night."

"Well, I'm pretty sure everyone in Cloud Ruler Temple knows, so you don't need to really make an effort to keep your relationship... private."

Akarim shrugged.

"I don't have a problem with people knowing. I respected Martin's request to keep what happens between us... between us." Akarim paused, eyes widening as he leant against the table for support. "Oh shit."

Caroline put a hand on his arm.

"Are you alright?"

"I've just slept with the Emperor. The 'Emperor' Emperor. The Septim bloodline, Emperor."

"Um, yes...? You did?"

"I, um." He pointed at Caroline. "You're boyfriend is a secret-spilling asshole." He turned away. "I need to go, uh, figure some stuff out. Oh." He turned back towards the Blades. "There. Have something else to gossip about. Don't tempt me. I can reveal more. Pelagius, I'm looking at you." He raised an eyebrow in Pelagius' direction. "But I'm leaving, for now. Bye." He moved out of the door, shutting it closed behind him. He let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

Right.

Martin.

Then allies for Bruma.

He made his way into the Main Hall, aware of Baurus standing behind Martin, arms crossed over his chest once again.

Akarim mirrored Baurus' stance as he stood next to Martin.

"I found out who told Jauffre."

Martin looked up from his book.

"Who?"

"Baragon. Who told Pelagius. Who heard from Steffan. Who heard from Caroline. Who heard from him." He pointed at Baurus. "We caught you red handed."

"I-excuse me?" Baurus stepped forward. "I briefly mentioned walking in on the two of you 'getting friendly' in the West wing. I wasn't told to not tell anyone."

"Did you not assume to, I don't know, maybe ask-"

Martin held up his hand.

"Akarim. It's alright." He sighed. "I had hoped to keep this more conservative than it has been, but this is somewhere where word would travel fast. I just... wasn't sure how Jauffre would be towards us being of the same gender."

Baurus huffed.

"He approved of Glenroy and I. I don't see why not you two."

Akarim frowned.

"Hang on. Wait. No." He shook his head. "There's no way-"

"Glenroy was an exception."

"...Ah."

Martin turned towards Baurus.

"Who is Glenroy, if I may ask?"

"Another Blade who... who worked alongside me with getting the Emperor to safety. He... didn't make it, in the end."

"I apologise for your loss."

Baurus shook his head.

"He died with honour. Akarim and I wouldn't have made it out of those sewers without him. None of this would have been possible without him." He pointed up at one of the katanas lined around the room, one for every fallen Blade. "That's his. Next to Captain Renault's. Mine will join when I pass."

"Hope it's not any time soon."

Baurus turned to Akarim.

"Why? Would you miss me?"

Akarim shrugged.

"I'm not denying it."

Baurus closed his mouth, his response never leaving his lips.

"Was there... Anything else you needed?" Martin asked Akarim after a moment had passed.

"Oh. Jauffre is sending me to the cities across Cyrodiil to gather troops to defend Bruma against an attack. The more the merrier, I suppose. You also mentioned you deciphered the next part of the ritual earlier?"

"Right. Yes. Blood of a Divine. The counterpart to the first; the blood of a Daedric Prince. This was a terrible puzzle to me. Unlike the Daedra Lords, the gods have no artifacts, and do not physically manifest themselves in our world. How then to obtain the blood of a god? But Jauffre solved it. The blood of Tiber Septim himself who became one of the Divines. This is a secret remembered only by the Blades, passed down from one Grandmaster to the next. Actually, Jauffre should tell it to you himself-"

"Yes. I shall." Jauffre had placed a couple more books down on Martin's table, and Captain Steffan was trailing behind him once again. "So, Martin wants you to recover the Armour of Tiber Septim? I wish there was another way. The Armour is in the Shrine of Tiber Septim, in the catacombs beneath the ruin of Sancre Tor. A holy place, once. But Sancre Tor became evil long ago. No one has returned from the Shrine of Tiber Septim for many lifetimes."

"Right." Akarim nodded in understanding. "So, what will I be dealing with? Skeletons? Ghosts?" Please, Gods, let there be no Goblins.

"I do not know. The Catacombs of Sancre Tor were sealed by the first Grandmaster of the Blades. The four mightiest Blades of Tiber Septim's day. Alain, Valdemar, Rielus, and Casnar, went to Sancre Tor and never returned. Here." He reached into his robes and produced a key, handing it over to Akarim. "This is the key to Sancre Tor's outer door. I... fear I am sending you to your death, but we have no other choice. You must proceed."

Death.

Something Akarim would much rather avoid altogether.

Baurus and Martin had looked back up at Akarim, whose mouth had run dry. He swallowed, shrugging.

"Well, it's going to happen one day. Maybe sooner than later-"

"Hang on, no, Akarim." Martin stood up, reaching out to curl his hand around Akarim's bicep. "We're not forcing you to do this if you don't want to."

Akarim waved him off.

"I'll be fine. I just received this new enchanted bow which will aid me." He cocked a smile. "And I have a few tricks up my sleeves."

Martin didn't seem very convinced by his words.

"Akarim..."

"I'll be fine." He wrapped his hand around Martin's, giving it a squeeze. "I'll be back. I always come back."

Martin nodded, releasing his breath.

"Stay safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, some of these things that i write now i realise does loop back to what i wrote in very early chapters and it's just by coincidence that it works  
> oh, and the part with jauffre kind of yelling at akarim i wrote last year back in october (shit that was so long ago) so ive kind have been itching to get it done and out of the way  
> and i definitely have an ending in mind for this story, and have for the past couple of months  
> also, ive started two other fics following the shivering isles quest line and the thieves guild quest line with another two of my characters (one will be introduced in this story before it finishes) so i do continue to keep writing oblivion stuff after this one has ended  
> anyway, thanks for reading


	25. Honest To Gods I'll Break Your Heart, Tear You To Pieces And Rip You Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not a hero."
> 
> "You're my hero."
> 
> Akarim scrunched up his face.
> 
> "That was so cliché."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy okay  
> got like another 50+ things added for akarims backstory and now im trying to figure out how to fit everything in lol  
> chapter title is from Night of the Hunter by Thirty Seconds to Mars  
> anyway, hope you enjoy ^_^

The healer opened the door, letting Akarim step into the room. Being the under croft of the Chapel, the only window was small and placed higher up towards the ceiling on the wall. Candles were hung on the wall and on tables next to the beds spaced out evenly in the room. One was occupied.

"Hey. It's the Hero of Kvatch."

Soren spoke up from where he was propped up against some pillows at the head of the bed. He was heavily bandaged around the torso, covering the deep wound that almost ended his life. A large gauze covered another wound over the left side of his face, though it didn't cover his blackened eye that was almost swollen shut. He was battered and broken.

But he was alive and breathing.

"I'm not a hero."

"You're my hero."

Akarim scrunched up his face.

"That was so cliché."

Soren laughed weakly.

"Yeah. It was." His eyes followed Akarim as he took a seat next to the bed. They lingered on the bruise on Akarim's forehead, then to the bags under his eyes, then the small cuts that covered his face. "You look like shit."

Akarim's lips quirked up into a smile.

"I could say the same to you."

Soren attempted to shrug, which ended with him wincing in pain instead.

"It could be worse."

"Yes, but it could be better."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here at all." Soren sighed. "They said that without that initial healing spell to seal off some of the wound, I wouldn't have made it."

Akarim had dropped his eyes to the bed sheets.

"...You didn't tell them that I did it, did you?"

Soren smiled softly.

"No. They think I managed to do it myself."

Akarim nodded, still avoiding Soren's eye.

"Well, you're alive and talking, so my work here is done." He pushed up from his seat. "I'll be going-"

"Why won't you look at me?"

"Well, I'm looking at your legs right now so, really, I am looking-"

"Why won't you look me in the eye?"

Akarim clenched his jaw, closing his eyes.

"You almost died. There was so much blood, and I didn't know if what I did was enough or if you'd make it back to Nirn."

"Why does that matter? I'm insignificant in all of this. I don't see the reason why-"

"You're so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. It almost ended and you should live it while you can." He shook his head. "That's why I don't want to look you in the eye."

"So, you're angry at me?"

"No! Ye-no, I'm not- I..." Akarim sighed, sitting back down. He put his head in his hands. "I'm frustrated with this Oblivion Crisis and I want it over and done with. Too many people have died.

"I'm one you can cross of the list for saving. As I'm sure there are many more that have made it because you've closed those gates. Here." He reached out across the sheets. "Gimme your hand. I can't reach it from here."

Akarim let his hand drop to the sheets, watching as Soren curled his hand around Akarim's.

"Soren..."

"No. You listen to me. A lot more people would be dead if it weren't for you closing those gates. None of this is for nothing. People will die. It's inevitable. But we do what we can." He squeezed Akarim's hand. "You have saved so many people. More than you realise. It's hard but you need to focus on the positives, other wise you're just going to be weighed down."

Akarim swallowed.

"Thank you. I... Think I really needed that."

They sat in silence for a moment, Soren's shallow breathing being the only sound from the both of them.

"So, did you... want to get drinks or something later?"

Akarim squeezed Soren's hand.

"Oh, Soren. All I'm going to do is break your heart."

"Just one night? Please?"

"I can't. I'm..." He swallowed. "I'm seeing someone."

Soren huffed, smiling at the ceiling.

"I bet they're something to have someone like you."

Akarim laughed.

"I suppose." He rubbed the back of Soren's hand before letting go. "I really should get going though. Have some errands to run for, well, everyone at the moment."

"Back to saving Nirn, huh?" He flashed Akarim a crooked smile. "Shouldn't really keep you from that."

"I'll come back, when I have time." He stood up. "Rest. You look like you need it."

"I will, if you promise to take care of yourself."

Akarim smiled, heading towards the door.

"I'll hold onto that promise."

"I'll catch you later, Hero of Kvatch."

* * *

 

His footsteps echoed off the walls as he walked around the Imperial Palace. He'd only ever admired it from the outside. Built by the Aldmer for the Ayleids centuries ago, it now stood as a symbol of the Imperial Empire. It was a prominent structure, visible from almost every point of Cyrodiil. It was beautiful, as far as architecture went.

Before becoming the next Gray Fox, Deseryth had apparently had to sneak into the basement and do something with a giant hour glass, and she also mentioned other giant objects...? What ever it was, Akarim didn't really want to find out.

It had been a while since he had seen the Dunmer. Speaking of which, she wasn't with Armand when Akarim went to see him earlier, which was strange because the two of them were in a relationship... of sorts. There were romantically involved with each other. Armand still slept around because, well, Deseryth wasn't sexually attracted to him. Or anyone. It seemed to work out for the both of them. And they were happy for Akarim to come into their relationship, which kind of worked, but kind of didn't, as Akarim would consider himself the opposite of Deseryth. Where she experienced romantic attraction, he did not, and where he experienced sexual attraction, she did not.

And Armand was just... Armand. Attracted to anyone romantically and sexually.

What was between them worked, and had for the past several years or so. It was a platonic love shared between the three of them. The Redguard, the Dunmer and the Bosmer. They would always be there for each other.

He stopped admiring the sheer size of the White Gold Tower and approached one of the Palace Guards standing outside doors leading to the Elder Council Chambers.

"State your business."

"I've come to speak to Chancellor Ocato."

The guard sighed, as if he had been asked that question many times before.

"Chancellor Ocato is very busy. Unless you have requested previously for an audience with him, I would suggest-"

"I'm here on behalf of Grandmaster Jauffre of the Blades." Akarim cut in. "It's important that I see Ocato as soon as possible."

"O-oh. Yes of course." The guard almost stumbled over to the door to push it open. "Right away."

Akarim stepped inside, following the guard as they approaches a High Elf gathering some important papers in his hands. He looked up as they came closer, frowning in annoyance.

"Excuse me, but I am very busy at this moment."

Akarim didn't like him already.

"Sir. He's from the Blades."

Ocato's eyes widened.

"The Blades, did you say? Jauffre sent you? What's this about? Quickly, now."

"I've come to ask aid for Bruma against an attack of Mehrunes Dagon. Bruma cannot defend itself against an attack like that at Kvatch. We need all the help we can get."

"This is terrible news." He shook his head, ruffling through the pages of important documents in his hands. "Under normal circumstances I would dispatch a legion or two to Bruma immediately, but the circumstances are not normal, are they?" He looked back up at Akarim. "I've been pleading for troops for Cyrodiil for weeks, but the generals assure me that the entire Imperial Army is already fully committed. Besides... I'd have a full scale political crisis on my hands if I tried to pull any troops out of the provinces. I'm sorry but the cities of Cyrodiil will have to fend for themselves for the time being."

Well, wasn't that just great?

* * *

 

"Akarim?"

"Yeah. Hi. I'm alive, just barely." He ducked under Armand's arm holding the door open. "How's everything been?"

"Could be better, could be worse." Armand shrugged as he closed the door. "Nice bow."

"Thanks." Akarim ran his fingers along the string across his chest. "It was a gift."

"How's the whole 'end of Nirn' going for you?"

"Well, it hasn't ended yet, so I suppose it's going alright." He jumped up to sit at the edge of the table to the right in the room. "How's the Thieves Guild going? How's Deseryth? She wasn't here when I popped in earlier."

"That was probably because she had some business in Skyrim. She's back now. Actually, she's at the Den right now, if you want to ask her yourself?"

"I _could_ do that."

Armand folded his arms across his chest.

"Akarim. You can't put this off forever.

Akarim swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck

"I... suppose she was just as upset as you when I... 'disappeared?'"

"Definitely more upset."

Akarim winced.

"I should probably get her wrath over and done with,"

"Probably."

"Will you back me up?"

"Hah! Are you kidding me? She'd rip me apart as well!" Armand shook his head. "No, you're on your own with this one."

"But my apology to her won't end in sex." Akarim groaned, dropping his head back. "Damn her for not liking me for my gorgeous body. I would make my hips do the talking."

"Don't flatter yourself. You know she's not attracted to anyone in that way."

"Isn't my platonic love for her enough?"

Armand shrugged.

"She might have been more forgiving if you spoke to her earlier."

"She wasn't here! It wasn't my fault she was in Skyrim for some business." He sighed. "I should get this over and done with."

"Probably."

Akarim jumped off the table, cracking his knuckles.

"Bring it on."

* * *

 

"How dare you show your face around here!" Deseryth had stood up behind her desk, pointing at Akarim from across the room, who was trying his best to hide behind Armand, who in turn, just walked away from him. "How _dare_ you come here!"

"Look, Deseryth-"

"No. You listen to me, Akarim." She started moving towards him. She gripped a quill in her hand, almost brandishing it at him like a sword. Akarim was beginning to regret all of his life's decisions all at once. "Don't you dare believe that you can just waltz in here like _nothing_ has happened."

"Please, I'm sorry-"

"No no no. You do not beg for forgiveness. Not after making everyone believe that you died!" She had backed him up against the wall. He had no where to go. Towering over him, she pressed forward, holding the quill up to his throat. This was how it ends.

"I-"

"You're a fucking asshole, Akarim." She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. "I fucking hate you so much."

Akarim gave her a moment, before wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I'm so sorry."

"I haven't forgiven you. Not yet." She pulled away from him, turning to move back towards her desk. Armand followed her, arms folded across his chest as he stood next to her desk. "But why come back now?"

Akarim held up a finger.

"1. I missed you. The both of you. 2. I miss working for the Thieves Guild. And 3. I need to know if there's a way to kill a Daedric Prince."

Both Armand and Deseryth paused their movements, looking back up at Akarim.

"What the fuck?"

"Hello? Head of the Thieves Guild? Don't you have contacts that might have the answer?"

Deseryth held up her hands.

"Don't you have some of your own?

"The more the merrier."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Why do you need to kill a Daedric Prince?"

"Well, I'm currently bedding the heir to the throne and I'm thinking about worst-case scenarios and-"

"Wait wait wait. Hold on." Armand pointed at Akarim. "You're bedding who?"

"The next heir to the throne?"

Deseryth shook her head.

"Bullshit."

Akarim shrugged.

"He's a good lay. Might stick around with him for a bit."

Armand shook his head.

"Only you, Akarim, would be able to seduce an Emperor."

Akarim winked at Armand.

"Part of my 'Bosmer charm'."

Armand rolled his eyes.

"What charm?"

"Okay, we're getting off track." Deseryth shook her head. "I've never heard of anyone killing a Daedric Prince before. What makes you think you can do it?"

"I don't think I can, but it doesn't hurt to try."

"You could be killed." Armand pointed out.

"Okay, fair enough, but still."

"I personally don't know anyone who could be of help, but I can definitely ask around for you." Deseryth wrote herself a note in shaky, but still legible writing. "I'll also look through the archives here. Gives me an excuse to go through the mess."

"Thanks." He looked out the window. The sun hung low in the sky. "I really should be off."

"Where are you going next?"

"We're trying to get aid for Bruma to defend it against an attack of the Mythic Dawn, so maybe across to Chorrol or Cheydinhal. Oh, and then maybe back to Sancre Tor to get the armour of Tiber Septim." He shrugged. "The usual."

"You better make sure you come back in one piece." Deseryth pointed at him again. "Or I'll rip you into more pieces."

Akarim smirked.

"Love you too, Des."

Armand put his hand on Deseryth's shoulder.

"You know where to find us."

"I always do." He nodded. "You two take care of each other."

"Go. It's getting late."

Akarim gave them a wave, before moving out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I've had the idea for Deseryth for a while (and i will be writing the thieves guild quest novelisation with her in it)  
> and, yeah  
> i tried making it clear without using the terms aromantic/asexual and panromantic/pansexual in regards to deseryth and akarim. i apologise if that was not clear  
> if anyone has any questions, hmu on my [tumblr](http://martiniseptimus.tumblr.com) (i wont be giving away spoilers if your questions head in that direction)
> 
> Thanks again to my beta reader Kako <3


	26. I'm The Most Scary Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He cursed internally. If there were two, there had to be more. Killing one of them would just give away his position
> 
> Alright. Time for a different approach.
> 
> Get closer. Find a way into the ruins itself. Take out the skeletons only if necessary.
> 
> Simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whelp. over a year since the last update.  
> oh well. here we go.  
> enjoy.

"While I understand Bruma's need, Chorrol's own defense must come first." Countess Arriana Valga told him from where she sat upon her seat. Two guards stood attentive, glancing over at Akarim every couple of moments or so. "I cannot spare any soldiers as long as Chorrol remains under threat from the Oblivion Gate outside our walls."

Akarim put his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side as he addressed the Countess.

"So, you need someone to take care of it?"

"My soldiers are hardly the sort to figure it out themselves." A guard to her right flinched at her words. It seemed she was not the sort to mess with. "If you could be so kind as to deal with it quickly and effectively, I will be sure to send them to Bruma."

"I don't know if you are aware," He pointed towards the door. "but my life could end in that gate."

She leant forward on her seat.

"Then make sure you don't."

Akarim eyed her for a moment. The guards standing to the side of her eyed him back. Akarim nodded, stepping backwards, but not before giving her a bow.

"I'll be seeing you in a couple of hours."

* * *

 

"Guess who's back with a closed Oblivion gate?" He had a bounce in his step as he walked towards the Countess, trying to draw attention away from his slightly charred gauntlet. "Oh, and this is for you." He reached into his small satchel and pulled out a Sigil Stone. "To commemorate the day that the Hero Of Kvatch saved your city."

She raised her eyebrow, taking the stone from his hands. Her eyes lingered on the gauntlet, but she didn't make a comment.

"I'm impressed," She rolled the stone over in her hands, peering at it. "This is what keeps the gate open?"

"Yes." Akarim nodded. "Take it, and the entire sigil tower crumbles, along with the portal open to our world."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not to my knowledge, but I would research more into it, if I were you."

"Hmm." She held it out for one of her guards to take, which they did immediately, carefully taking it to a room off to the right. Akarim assumed that she had a collection of other items that grasped her interest stored away. "Alright, Hero of Kvatch. You have saved my city from a threat of daedra, and you have my thanks. I will send what men I can spare to aid you and those in Bruma."

Akarim bowed in her direction.

"I thank you on behalf of Bruma and the Grandmaster of the Blades. I shall take my leave."

He turned to leave;

"Before you go," He turned back, "tell me this, Hero of Kvatch. What happens if you do die? Whether is be in Oblivion or not? Who would step up in your place?"

...That wasn't a question he was expecting.

"I... would like to think there would be someone else willing to save Nirn. I... guess I wouldn't know for sure unless it, well, happened."

"Hmm." She said the word like a sigh of breath. "That is all. You may leave."

He gave her another bow, before moving out of the castle. He hadn't directly been asked a question like that since helping Martin. He would always have doubts about the entire crisis at hand, but the questions really made him think.

If he was to die, who would take his place?

The ruins of Sancre Tor jutted out across the side of a mountain, almost completely hidden by trees and a fine blanket of snow. Wrapped in extra layers to fend off the cold, Akairm approached with caution. His anxiety grew with every step he took, the snow crunching beneath his boots. His eyes flitted back and forth as he searched for any sign of movement of a hostile creature. He could feel the change in atmosphere the closer he moved. It wasn't a good change. Like something or someone was threatening to choke him.

He crouched behind a crumbled wall, slipping his bow off to load an arrow. The bow in his hand thrummed softly from what ever enchantment Martin had put on it. A constant buzz that never faultered. It calmed him, even if it was just slightly.

He moved out from behind the wall, across to a fallen pillar. He knelt down, pressing his back against the cool stone. He pushed himself slowly up, looking over his right shoulder. He could see more into the centre of the ruins from his position.

Movement caught his eye. To the left. There. That's what he was looking for. A skeleton stood in the middle of the Fort's ground, swaying slightly from side to side. A battle axe rested on the ground next to it. It didn't seem to be on alert or waiting for anything, but Akarim knew better.

He changed his position slightly, aiming at the skeleton's head. A fast and efficient way of getting rid of the creature. He was about to let go, when another came into his line of sight. He cursed internally. If there were two, there had to be more. Killing one of them would just give away his position

Alright. Time for a different approach.

Get closer. Find a way into the ruins itself. Take out the skeletons only if necessary.

Simple.

* * *

 

He slammed the iron bar across the door, barricading himself inside. The thumps against the door from the hostile creatures outside were muted through the thick wood.

So, the plan didn't go as well as he would have liked. There were about 10 more skeletons than he expected, plus a wolf being chased by a couple of goblins caught onto the commotion and decided to join in on the fun. Hopefully by the time he finished business inside, those outside would have lost interest. Or torn each other apart.

He leant heavily against the door, breathing heavily as he slid to the floor. An arrow was embedded into his thigh. It hadn't pierced deep, but attempting to take it out might end up with unnecessary blood loss. Unless...

He ripped off one of his leather gauntlets, reaching into the small satchel hanging from his waist. He moved through a couple of potions before pulling out one for healing. He placed it next to him before rifling through the bottles to reach the bandages underneath. Grabbing the largest one, he placed it on his lap. Taking a deep breath in, he gripped closer to the head of the arrow. He gritted his teeth as he snapped part of the arrow off. He stifled his yelp of pain, starting to wrap the bandage around his leg. He didn't want to try to remove it entirely incase the head remained embedded in him, or if he just ended up making the wound even bigger. He would deal with the rest of the wound later. Or let Martin fix him up.

He grabbed the potion next to him, chugging it down quickly. It would numb the pain for the time being. It was then that he could actually take in his surroundings.

Sancre Tor was much like any other ruin he had entered. Mostly brick. Chains against the wall. Barred gates. Torches. Some lit, others burnt out. The ones that were lit crackled with more sparks. Someone had lit them with magic. Probably why it had lasted so long. The smell was like that of damp earth, but stale, with a touch of death. Yes. It was definitely inviting, especially with the way the air moved; making goosebumps rise across Akarim's skin.

What lay ahead was one of the previously mentioned gates. Through the bars, he could see dense fog, lazily curling around pillars and unknown shapes in the dim light. Not the most inviting place to have stumbled into, he had to admit. Maybe more light to brighten up the place. Clean up the scattered bones covering the floor from the remains of creatures. Do a bit of dusting. That would definitely make the place feel more inviting.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He froze as a wraith glid lazily towards him. Which meant that he hadn't been spotted yet. He had the upper hand, when it came to spotting the enemy first. His bow and arrows were beside him. Moving to wield the weapons would alert the wraith of his presence. It was carrying a cutlass, armed and ready to use. Akarim didn't feel like being wounded yet some more.

Akarim held his breath, and the wraith stopped. It hovered for a moment longer, before turning around. It gave Akarim enough time to wield himself with the bow. The wraith let out a hiss as it dropped the cutlass. The arrow passed through it, but the enchantment seemed to have done the job. The wraith pulsed white and orange at the same time, which meant that the enchantment on the bow was a mixture of frost and fire. Maybe shock as well. What ever it was enchanted with, it did the job. The wraith pooled onto the floor, almost disintegrating into nothing. All that was left behind was a small pool of ectoplasm.

38 arrows left.

There was also two daggers strapped to his thigh if everything else failed. But, they weren't enchanted. Which meant it wouldn't do shit to wraiths or ghosts.

It was better than running out of arrows and not having anything else to fight with.

He pushed on through the ruins. He wasn't sure of which direction was the right direction to go. What he had learnt from previous experience was that if he ran into more hostile creatures, then he was getting closer to where he needed to be. He turned around another corner, and was faced with some double iron doors. There was a green light illuminating the cracks down the sides and beneath the door. It didn't seem that inviting, if he had to be honest, but it was better than nothing.

With a grunt, he heaved the door open wide enough for him to fit through. The green light was coming from the magic-lit torches lighting stone steps down into a crypt of some kind. Some wraiths were lazily drifting around the entrance. Something told Akarim that it was the way to go.

The wraiths were disposed of quickly, leaving a clear path for Akarim into the crypt. He approched with caution, keeping his attention towards the shadows; ready if anything were to jump out and attack him.

Nothing did.

He pushed forward. What lay ahead looked like a tomb. The air was hazy, as most of the ruins had been. He could make out rows of passed Kings lining the walls. As he moved through the chamber, he found it more and more difficult to breathe as the air became thick and heavy. It felt like his skin was beginning to slowly melt off. He backed away, breathing heavily. He definitely wasn't moving forward any time soon. He huffed, putting his hands on his hips. His energy was returning as he waited out of reach of the weird fog. He was sure the armour was just _right there _.__

He looked back up towards the door that lead outside the tomb. He hadn't explored the rest of the ruins. Maybe the answer to getting the armour lay somewhere else. He sighed. Readying his bow once again, before moving out of the chamber.

* * *

 

He watched as a skeleton trudged across the floor below. Akarim was perched on the platform above, readying an arrow. The skeleton had a weird teal aura radiating from around it. It wasn't natural, even in the creature sense. It was almost like... an enchantment? The skeleton itself was wielding an Akiviri Katana, and wearing a Blade's helmet.

Strange.

He aimed the arrow, and let it fly. The skeleton hissed his pain and directed its empty sockets up towards Akarim.

Uh oh.

Akarim scrambled back up to his full height, readying another arrow as the skeleton made its way up the stairs. He limped backwards, before aiming and letting his arrow fly. It bounced off, dropping to the floor. The skeleton was hindered of mobility for a moment as the spell from the arrow took effect. It groaned, staggering forward but catching itself at the last moment. Still, it pressed on. Its only goal to attack Akarim.

Akarim aimed another arrow, having distanced himself enough to safely shoot. He let out a breath and let it fly.

The skeleton seemed to fall in slow motion, collapsing into a pile of bones and armour. There was a groan, almost of human breath as it settled on the floor.

Akarim waited a moment, before almost sighing in relief. He stepped hesitantly towards the fallen creature, before almost jumping out of his skin.

A spirit had emerged and was standing in place of the skeleton. It bore armour of the Blades’ and was emitting a blue aura. Akarim kept a slight distance from it. If there was anything he had learnt from running into spirits is: never trust them.

“At long last... you have freed me. Now I can finally complete me lord’s last request.”

... Unless they speak to you in a nice manner.

“Who are you?”

“I was Rielus, loyal Blade of the Emperor Tiber Septim." The spirit's voice had an almost hollow echo to it. "I do not know how long I have been dead, but it feels like an eternity.”

“Do you remember what happened?"

“My three companions and I were sent here by Emperor Tiber Septim to discover what evil had defiled the holy catacombs of Sancre Tor. We did not know that the Underking, who was Zurin Arctus, had arisen to take his first revenge upon his former lord. The Underking defeated and ensnared us in his evil enchantment, and bound us here to guard forever the defiled Shrine of Tiber Septim.”

"This Underking... is he still here?"

"No. He departed long ago. But his evil will remains, preventing any from paying homage at the Shrine of Tiber Septim." Ah. Yes. That explains the mass amount of wraiths and skeletons he ran into on the way. "Over the uncounted years of our slavery here, we have brooded over our defeat. I believe that we can undo the Underking's evil magic."

Alright. Good-ish spirit that he could trust?

Before he could reply, the spirit was walking away. It seemed to be heading for the Shrine of Tiber Septim. Because Akarim had a really good sense of direction and definitely did not need help getting out of this part of the catacombs, he didn't really have to follow the spirit.

...Which he found himself doing anyway.

The spirit suddenly turned back to him.

"Find my other companions. Release them from this curse."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Can do." He saluted the spirit and began walking in the other direction. "To the... other skeleton Blades. Sure. Easy as pie."

* * *

 

He limped back through the doors into the crypt. The other spirits had been just a little bit more difficult that the first. He had two arrows left, and a dagger and a half (the other half was embedded into a skeleton). The ruin was strangely quiet, it seemed almost... at peace. Inside the Shrine of Tiber Septim, the ghosts of the past Blades had lined up on opposite sides of the stairs leading further down. They unsheathed their spiritual blades, kneeling down and bowing their heads. The strange form of dispel, keeping Akarim from progressing further, slowly began to dissipate. The heavy feeling in his chest lifted. He took a deep breath in. He took a moment, looking over at the Spirit's of the Blades. They hadn't moved, obviously waiting for the Bosmer. He didn't take any more of their time, pushing forwards.

At the end of the room to which the Shrine lead to, was the armour of Tiber Septim. Of the God Talos. He picked it up, handling it carefully, before unrolling the empty bag he had slung over his shoulder. He placed the armour in the bag, slinging it back over his shoulder. It had weight to it, as any heavy armour would have, but with his depleted supplies, it wasn't much of a problem. He moved back out of the Shrine. The Spirits had disappeared. Akarim hoped, for their sake, they had finally moved on. Angry spirits stuck forever was not a great way to spent an eternity.

With that, he tightened the grip on his satchel tighter and left the ruins of Sancre Tor. At least that was one item down and out of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey it's ya boi  
> 2017 was a kinda fucked year and i did write shit, but not enough and broken pieces here and there for future chapters.  
> i have shit planned of how this fic will go, so i do have plans to finish this (and maybe have a s e q u e l)  
> also, didnt beta read this so, ye. apologies if language and grammar is s h i t  
> anyway, thanks for reading, and thanks to those who have read this from the beginning. bless you all xx


End file.
